Free Riders
by Blastbone
Summary: After yet another anomaly sends Blaster and Char into another world, the magic might not let them return.  But what happens if there wasn't only one egg that was rescued?  Rated for the violence.
1. Prelude

Free Riders

Author's Note: I do not own any part of the Inheritance Cycle. The only characters I own are Blaster, Char, and a yet-unnamed dragon.

Prelude: Reality Shift.

Blaster was working under the engine-room control console when the alarm went off. He was the one who programmed that particular alarm, making sure that they were aware of the potentially deadly anomalies that littered space. They weren't deadly in the way of blowing up the _Pegasus_, the large ship that was shaped like a turtle with his head poking out, but it was potentially deadly on the other side, where anything could happen.

Blaster extracted himself from under the console, his former drive clothing from his time with Sora and his friends was grimy and almost out of the special magic that it held. Not that Blaster needed it, since he had regained access to the Crux Stones and the Boulder of Treo Cruex, the mystical stones that gave him his supernatural powers. He also had a crystalline blade on his belt, made specially for him when he had gotten back to his own reality.

"Blaster," a female voice said. Her voice seemed a little confused. "I just had a strange, silver stone appear from the anomaly. I'm preparing to beam it aboard."

"Send it to Science Lab 2," Blaster said. "Alice, activate the autopilot and keep us away from the anomaly. Char, meet me at the lab."

"Will do," Char replied. "I'm also sending word to Ashley and letting Cody and Wendy know what we have found and to be ready for any other details."

"And if we are suddenly sucked into the anomaly," Blaster continued, "leave a beacon so that they know we aren't here anymore."

"Understood," Char replied.

Blaster muttered as he quickly replaced the cover to the console he was done working on. He then raced to the Science Lab, running so fast that he decided to take the stairs as opposed to the elevator. Even then, Char had beat him to it, still wearing her drive clothing as well, but wearing her signature sleeveless leather jacket over her tank-top. She was already examining the silver stone with the ship's scanner. Several other, low-tech devices were sitting nearby.

"What have we got?" Blaster asked as he approached the stone. It was easily as big as a rugby ball.

"Looks like it's made out of a solid piece of stone," Char replied. "The thing is that it looks too perfect to be made with anything less than a super-precision laser. I mean, there are no imperfections, no tool marks, not even a sign that it was made with anything."

"And that's with the scanner?" Blaster asked. Char nodded, then stopped the surface scanner. "Have you tried the low-tech tools?"

"I was just about to do that," Char replied. She picked up a rather menacing claw-hammer and slammed the claw into the stone. She checked it again, and there were no marks. "Now _that_ is strange. I'm seeing nothing. That hammer should have left a mark."

"Not only that, but I think it might not be solid," Blaster said. He took the hammer and tapped it again, and, heard a dull ring. "That should be a thump, so I have no idea what it is."

"Sensors are indicating that the anomaly is expanding," Alice said, the ship's female computer. "We may be shifting universes anytime in the next few seconds because I am unable to distinguish where the edge is, and how fast it is expanding due to our proximity to it."

"Prepare to beam us down, and have our weapons ready," Blaster said. He felt the ship rattle as the nose breeched the anomaly. Once they were through, the ship's engines seemingly exploded. "Emergency evacuation. Char, grab that stone."

Char grabbed the stone just seconds before the two were beamed to the nearest, and seemingly only habitable planet around. She found herself in the middle of the woods, surrounded by green, hairy men with horns, and one man in a black robe. Char immediately thought of the Organization, but the man seemed to have glowing red eyes. She then became aware of a second woman nearby, also holding a stone, but this one seemingly made of sapphire.

"Ah," the red-eyed man muttered. "There's the second one."

"Well, it happens to be in my possession, so I guess it's mine now," Char said. The man growled, and barked an order. The horned men drew their bows and aimed them all at Char.

"Listen to what I say," the woman whispered. Char then took notice of the woman. She had black hair, held out of her face by a headband. She wore leather clothing, showing off her lean, but strong body. The last thing that Char took notice of were the pointed ears, something she thought she'd never see again. However, her eyes weren't golden, so that proved she was good to go.

Char listened, then looked at the silver stone in her hands. She muttered something, then saw both stones start to glow. Char finally looked away as the stones become blinding. She looked away just as the red-eyed man fired a magic attack. As soon as the light dimmed, Char's eyes bulged seconds before she and the other woman was struck by what appeared to be red lightning. Her last thought before hitting the ground and blacking out was that Blaster would take care of the stone.

* * *

><p><strong>On the next Free Riders: Eragon and Blaster meet and we find out what happened to those stones.<strong>

Will try to update weekly. Which is saying something. If not, by-weekly.


	2. Ch1: The Two Stones

Free Riders

Author's Note: I do not own any part of the Inheritance Cycle. The only characters I own are Blaster, Char, and a yet-unnamed dragon.

Chapter 1: The Two Stones

Blaster was unaware that he had appeared in the woods until he slammed headfirst into a large tree. He groaned as his eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, only to hear a loud bang accompanied by a bright flash of light. He heard an arrow whistle through the air, and the sound of animals running away. Seconds later, he heard a male groan in anger, then knock another arrow onto a bow. At that point, Blaster drew his sword as the source of all the noise emerged and aimed his bow at Blaster.

"Who are you?" the male said. He looked no older than a 16-year-old boy. Based on the dress, Blaster assumed it was sometime before the advent of modern civilization.

"I do not mean you harm," Blaster said. He resheathed his sword as an act of kindness. "I am Blastbone Clarkson. You may call me Blaster."

"Eragon," the boy replied, but he didn't lower his bow. Blaster looked over to where the explosion came from and found out why. There were two stones, one of them was sapphire blue, while the other one was silver. Blaster quickly looked around, wondering how these stones got there. The thing was that the silver one was very familiar. Eragon slowly released the tension on the bow, then approached the sapphire stone. He poked it, then backed away.

"It's a stone," Blaster said. "I highly doubt that it'll bite back when you poke it with an arrow."

Blaster got close again and noticed a thin spiderweb of white on the sapphire. A quick look at the silver one proved that it too had a thin spiderweb of white, only it was hard to distinguish the white from the silver. Blaster picked up the silver one, and watched as Eragon struggled for a minute or two as to what to do. He finally picked it up, then began to look for something.

"Now what?" Blaster asked.

"Bedding down," Eragon said. "Not safe enough to stay out here in this clearing. I found an upturned tree not too far from here. We'll bed down for the night."

Blaster groaned, but the kid had a point. Not that it had mattered much to Blaster because of his ability to see in the dark and he was able to withstand fatal blows, but he found out that he would lose ten years from his hundred-thousand year life. The thing was that Blaster was stronger than he let on, and his supernatural powers made up for what his own brute strength could. When Eragon finally settled down, he offered Blaster some cheese and bread, but the alien refused. Soon after that, Eragon fell asleep. Blaster was unable to sleep, but instead meditated atop the fallen tree, gathering power from the stars above.

By morning, Eragon was finally awake. Once he had eaten, and viewed the charred remains of the clearing in which the stones appeared, both he and Blaster made their way towards Eragon's home. They followed the rough game trail, which was non existent in some places. All the while the two boys remained silent. Then, Eragon spoke up.

"Where are you from?" the boy asked.

Blaster cringed a bit, but made his best lie. "I am from far away. Heck, I'm so lost, I have no idea where I am anyway."

"You are in the Spine," Eragon said. "It's the mountain range that surrounds Palancar Valley as well as the village of Carvahall and the Anora River."

"Remind me to get a map, or something," Blaster muttered.

"You are truly not from here?" Eragon asked. Blaster shook his head. "Well, I should warn you that these mountains are so dangerous, that even King Galbatorix doesn't even call it his own. Rumor has it that he lost half his army in this ancient forest. It's just creepy."

"How about you?" Blaster asked. "Where are you from?"

"Just outside of Carvahall. We'll be there in just about two days time."

"That should give me enough time to figure out what I may need to know."

For the next day and a half, the two found it getting colder, even though Blaster was accustomed to it. He did, however, miss his trenchcoat that he had left on the _Pegasus_, but figured it might not be too much of a hassle to get a suitable jacket if he had to stay until winter. Ahead, the Igualda Falls began to roar as Palancar Valley came into view. The small town of Carvahall came into view as well as a cluster of brown buildings. It was a small village, but Blaster suspected it was quite a bit more welcome than he might first anticipate.

The two began their descent, and managed to get to the bottom as dusk began to set in. Carvahall lights began to wink on. Blaster learned that, being the only other settlement in Palancar Valley, it rarely got any travelers besides trappers and merchants. Eragon led Blaster around, having been in Carvahall for his whole life. Their first stop happened to be the butcher shop, which happened to bet a thick-beamed building with black smoke billowing from the chimney. The two entered the spacious room to see Sloan, the butcher. He was a small man, but he wore a long and blood-stained smock over his shirt, no doubt covered in the blood of the animals he killed. His belt was adorned by a number of knives, much more than Blaster had room for his own weapons.

Sloan had suspicious black eyes, and a sallow, pockmarked face. He seemed to sneer as the two walked in.

"Well, the mighty hunter joins the rest of us mortals," Sloan said. "How many did you bag this time?"

"None," Eragon said.

"And that's why you came to me?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then, let me see some money," Sloan said. "Either you have it or you don't."

"I was hoping to pay you with this," Eragon replied. He pulled out the sapphire stone and set it on the rough counter. The surface seemed to glint in the firelight.

"Did you steal it?" Sloan asked.

"No, sir," Blaster said, speaking up for the first time. Sloan looked at Blaster, but was too busy checking out the stone.

"How much is it worth?" Sloan asked. "I mean, it's pretty and all, but…"

"I don't know," Eragon replied, picking up where Sloan trailed off. "But no one would have gone to the trouble of shaping it unless it had some sort of value."

"Of course," Sloan said. "But, how much value? Since you don't know, I either suggest you find a trader who does, or take my offer of three crowns."

"That's a miser's bargain!" protested Eragon. "It must be worth at least ten times that!"

"Wouldn't buy enough food for a week," Blaster muttered, then spoke up. "Seven crowns."

"No," Sloan said. "My offer stands at three. If you don't like it, wait until the traders arrive. Either way, I'm tired of this conversation."

"Traders?" Blaster asked.

"A nomadic group of merchants and entertainers that stop in Carvahall every spring and winter," Eragon explained. "We sell them whatever they need to survive, and they sell us whatever we need." Blaster knew what was wrong then. No food until the traders came could mean disaster. Finally, Eragon made up his mind. "Fine, I accept," he snapped.

"Good," Sloan said. "I'll get you the meat. Not that it matters, but where did you find this?"

"Two nights ago in the Spine…"

"Get out!" Sloan demanded, pushing the stone away. He began to scrub the old bloodstains off his knife.

"Why?" Eragon asked. He pulled it towards him, as if his arms would protect it from Sloan's wrath.

"I won't deal with anything you bring back from those damned mountains! Take your sorcerer's stone elsewhere." Sloan inadvertently cut himself open on his knife, but he didn't seem to mind.

"You refuse to sell to me!"

"Yes! Unless you pay with coins," growled Sloan, hefting his knife while sidling away. "Go before I make you! Both of you!"

The door behind them slammed open. Blaster whirled around and placed a hand on his crystalline blade, but didn't draw it. Eragon too turned around. Behind them was a hulking man, Horst as Eragon whispered to Blaster. Sloan's daughter, Katrina, followed behind. She was tall for a sixteen year old, and it surprised Eragon that she was here. He explained to Blaster that she normally didn't get involved in her own father's arguments. Sloan glanced at them, then started his accusations. "They won't…"

"Quiet," Horst growled in a rumbling voice, cracking his knuckles at the same time. It was easy to see that he was the town's smith, with his thick neck and a scarred leather apron. Blaster could have found that out even without Eragon whispering into his ear. He had powerful arms, bare to the elbow, and a muscular and hairy chest barely visible through the top of his shirt. He had a carelessly trimmed beard, which was as roiled and knotted as his jaw muscles. "Sloan, what have you done now?"

"Nothing." He gave Eragon and Blaster a death glare before continuing. "These…_boys_ came in here and started badgering me. I asked them to leave, but they won't budge. I even threatened them, and they still ignored me." Sloan seemed to shrink as he stared at Horst.

"Is this true?" the smith demanded.

"No, sir!" Blaster said. "Eragon here offered that sapphire stone of his as payment for some meat, and Sloan accepted. When Eragon told him where he had found it in the Spine, Sloan refused to even touch it. I mean, what difference does it make where it came from?"

"Why do you not trade him, Sloan?" Horst replied. He looked at the stone and continued. "I've no love for the Spine myself, but if it's a question of the stone's worth, I'll back it with my own money."

"And mine," Blaster said. He watched as Sloan licked his lips.

"This is my store. I can do whatever I want." He then looked straight at Blaster. "Who are you, anyway? And where did you come from?"

"I am Blastbone Clarkson," Blaster said. "I came from the north, across the Spine."

"Get out," Sloan said. Blaster withdrew his blade.

"Guy with a sword, I wouldn't push it," Blaster said.

"Father," Katrina finally said. "They are willing to pay. Give him the meat, and then we can go have supper."

"Go back to the house," Sloan demanded. His eyes narrowed dangerously. "This is none of your business…I said _go_!" Katrina finally stomped out with a stiff back and a hardened face. Blaster knew not to interfere. Then Horst's voice reverberated from the room.

"Fine, you can deal with me. What were you going to get Eragon?"

"As much as I could," the boy replied.

"And you, Blastbone?"

"I think I'll be able to find some loose change to pay for my own," Blaster replied. Horst pulled out a purse and started counting out a pile of coins.

"Give me your best roasts and steaks," the smith said. "Make sure that it's enough to fill Eragon's pack." The butcher hesitated, his eyes darted between Eragon and Horst. "Not selling to me would be a very bad idea."

Sloan growled before turning to Blaster and asked, "And what can I get you?"

"I'll take six steaks and three roasts," Blaster said. "Excuse me while I search for my change."

Sloan went to the back room. The sound of frenzied cutting, wrapping, and low cursing happened to float out the door. He returned with an armful of meat, and handed most of that meat to Horst in exchange for the pile of coins. He turned to Blaster, who had finally withdrawn what he was going to pay with. Sloan gaped at the gold bar that Blaster had placed on the table, with the words "Ten Pounds" stamped near one of the two ends.

Horst picked up the meat he had paid for, then walked outside, followed by Eragon with his pack and stone, and Blaster with an armful of meat himself. The stuffiness of the shop was starting to get to Blaster, but he was glad that the night air was crisp.

"Thank you, Horst," Eragon said, snapping Blaster out of his daze. "Uncle Garrow will be pleased."

"Don't thank me," Horst laughed. "I've wanted to do that for a long time. Sloan's a vicious troublemaker, and it does him good to be humbled. Katrina heard what was happening and ran to fetch me. Good thing I came. You two were almost at blows. However, I doubt he'll serve you or any of your family the next time you go in there, even if you do have coins."

"Is he always like that?" Blaster asked. "I mean, come on. No man should treat his daughter that way."

"I'm sure Garrow would know," Horst replied. "At least more than I do."

"Well, now I have another reason to hurry home," Eragon said, stuffing the meat in his pack. Blaster did the same with his pack that he had found the other morning, having "forgotten" where he had put it. Eragon then tried to give the sapphire stone to Horst. "This is now rightfully yours."

"No, you keep your strange rock," Horst chuckled. "As for payment, Albriech plans to leave for Feinster next morning. He wants to become a master smith, and I'm going to need an assistant. You can come and work off the debt on your spare days."

"Again, thank you!" Eragon said. "I look forward to working with you." Just as he was about to leave, Eragon remembered something. "Roran wanted me to give Katrina a message, but, since I can't, can you get it to her?"

"Of course," the smith replied.

"He wants her to know that he'll come into town as soon as the merchants arrive and that he will see her then."

"Is that all?"

"No," Eragon said, looking embarrassed. "He also wants her to know that she is the most beautiful girl he has ever seen and that he thinks of nothing else."

Horst's grin seemed to grow as he winked at Eragon. "Getting serious, isn't he?" he joked.

"Yes, sir," Eragon replied, a smile on his face. "Could you also give her my thanks? It was nice of her to stand up to her father for me. I hope she isn't punished because of it. Roran would be furious if I got her into trouble."

"I wouldn't worry about it. Sloan doesn't know that she called me, so I doubt he'll be too hard on her. Before you two go, will you sup with us?"

"I'm sorry, but I can't," Eragon replied. "Garrow is expecting me." He tied off the top of his pack and set off, raising his hand in farewell.

"I will," Blaster replied. "I haven't turned down an offer yet. Besides, I've been traveling for a while, so I think it would be best if I rested for a while." Blaster then noticed Horst was looking curiously at the alien.

"About the gold…" Horst began.

"Between you and me," Blaster said, turning to make sure that there were no eavesdroppers, "I gave him a ten pound brick of fool's gold. However, I managed to find a way to keep it looking like normal gold for several months. I just hope he doesn't try to melt it down into coins, because then it'll get messy."

Horst laughed as he led Blaster to his home, where the alien was told to make himself at home until the tavern opened the next day. After dinner and a bit of a talk with Elain, Horst's wife, and the two sons, Albriech and Baldor, Blaster settled down in the guest room. For the first time, he took out the silver stone and looked it over. _What secrets are you hiding?_ The alien thought. He then took a look at his wrist computer for the first time, noticing that only static filled the screen. For the first time since he became an orphan so many years ago, Blaster was alone.

**Next time: The traders arrive, and the two try to sell their stones. Unfortunately, they will find out soon that the stones aren't as solid as they had originally thought.**

_Finished with _Inheritance,_ and I think it is really good. Not sure I like the ending, but it closed the series nicely._

R&R. Story will follow the book VERY closely up until the chapter "Diamond Tomb" so you know.


	3. Ch2: Traders & Dragons

Free Riders

Author's Note: I do not own any part of the Inheritance Cycle. The only characters I own are Blaster, Char, and a yet-unnamed dragon.

Chapter 2: Traders and Dragons

"Holy!" Blaster exclaimed.

It had been merely nine days after he had arrived, and Blaster saw a blizzard the likes of which he had never seen. At least, not this early in the season. He was just about to head out the door to see if he could chat with Eragon about his stone, but thought better of it, letting mother nature figure this out first before traipsing through the snow. The storm blew for days, giving Blaster time to try and contact Alice or Char. He finally got in contact with Alice two days after the storm began, and found that the magic interference with this world was too much for her to get a bead on where Char may have been.

Blaster knew there was something wrong, but decided to hang out until Alice had finally gotten through the interference in order to take the two of them back to their own reality. Eventually, the storm passed, but a new anxiety emerged. The traders were supposed to be up at this point, but the people of Carvahall were getting anxious because they were late. Eight days after the storm had lifted, Blaster saw a large group of people with horses and carriages rolled up the road from the south. They were set up and open for business by the next day in the open field just on the outskirts.

Even this early, Blaster knew that there was something that was amiss. The children looked frightened and disheveled. The men wore an array of weaponry ranging from swords to daggers. The women, likewise, had weapons of their own, preferring poniards as opposed to daggers and swords. By noon, Eragon, and two men (whom Blaster assumed were Garrow and Roran) began to enter the town limits, getting Blaster's mind to stop thinking about why the traders had armed themselves.

Almost immediately, Eragon grabbed a wrapped item which could only be the sapphire stone. Blaster quickly caught up with the boy, expressing his interest in how much the stone might be worth, lugging his own in his pack. Once Blaster and Garrow introduced themselves, they made their way over to Merlock, one of the traders who specialized in odd trinkets and jewelry. Upon reaching the booth in question, they all saw the man trying to sell brooches to a group of women. Each one earned more exclamations of admiration, and it didn't even take a farmer to guess that more money purses would be empty by the end of the day.

Once the merchant was free, the trio made their way over to him. "And what might I help you with?" he asked. "Perhaps purchasing an amulet or trinket for a lady?" He pulled out a delicately carved silver rose, the polished metal gleaming in what light there was. "Not even three crowns, though it has come all the way from the famed craftsmen of Belatona."

"We're not looking to buy, but to sell," Garrow replied. This peaked Merlock's interests, and he hid the rose under a small cloth.

"I see. Maybe, if this item is of any value, you would like to trade it for one or two of these exquisite pieces." He paused for just long enough for Eragon and his uncle to get uncomfortable with the silence. "You did _bring_ the object of consideration?"

"We have it, but we would rather show it to you elsewhere," Garrow replied. Merlock raised an eyebrow.

"In that case, let me invite you to my tent." He gathered his merchandise and gently laid them in an iron-bound chest, locking it. He then ushered the trio up the street to the temporary camp. Weaving between the wagons, they came to a tent pitched away from the other traders. Crimson at the top and sable at the bottom, the tent also had thin triangles of colors stabbing into each other. Merlock opened the tent and ushered them inside. They all sat down on seats carved from tree stumps. Other interesting things were small trinkets, and a gnarled dagger with a ruby in the pommel resting on a white cushion.

At that point, Merlock asked to see the stone, which Eragon unwrapped. Merlock took a thin box and withdrew from it a large set of copper scales. He weighed the stone, looked at it under a jeweler's glass, tapped it with a wooden mallet, and drew the point of a clear stone, diamond, by the looks of it, across it. He measured everything from the length to the diameter, writing his findings on a nearby slate. He thought for a while, then asked the one question Eragon didn't know. "Do you know what this is worth?"

"No," Garrow said. He twitched uncomfortably in his seat, but Blaster saw Merlock grimace.

"Unfortunately, neither do I," Merlock replied. "But I can tell you this much: the white veins are the same material as the blue that surrounds them, only a different color. What that material might be, though, I haven't a clue. It's harder than any rock I have ever seen, harder even than diamond. Whoever shaped it used tools I have never seen—or magic. Also, it's hollow." Garrow uttered a "what?" causing Merlock to sound irritated. "Did you ever hear a rock sound like this?"

With that, he grabbed the dagger and slapped the stone with the flat of the blade. A single note resonated through the tent, fading away smoothly. Eragon seemed to be alarmed, afraid that the stone had been damaged. However, Merlock tilted the stone towards them.

"You will find no scratches or blemishes where the dagger struck. I doubt I could do anything to harm this stone, even if I took a hammer to it."

"Believe me, I've tried," Blaster said. Everyone else looked confused until Blaster withdrew his own, silver stone. Merlock seemed to be out of his element because he looked like he had just about had a heart attack. The fact of the matter stood, and that was that these stones were probably made by magic.

"How much are they worth?" Garrow finally asked.

"I can't tell you that," Merlock groaned. "I'm sure that there are people who would pay dearly for something like this, but you won't find them in Carvahall. You'd have to go to the southern cities to find a buyer. These are a curiosity for most people. Certainly not an item to spend money on when practical things are needed."

"Will you buy it?" Garrow asked, looking like a gambler calculating his odds of winning.

"It's not worth the risk," the trader replied instantly. "I might be able to find a wealthy buyer during my spring travels, but I can't be certain. Even if I did, you'd have to wait until next winter to be paid. So, you're going to have to find someone else to trade with." He then looked at Garrow curiously. "Why did you insist on talking to me in private?"

"Because," Eragon replied, putting his stone away while Blaster did the same with his. "We found them in the Spine, and folks around here don't like that."

Merlock gave them all a startled look. "Do you know why we were late this year?" They shook their heads. "Our wanderings have been dogged with misfortune. Chaos seems to rule Alagaësia. We could not avoid illness, attack, and cursed black luck. Because the Varden attacks have increased, Galbatorix has forced cities to send more soldiers to the borders, men who are needed to fight the Urgals. The brutes have been migrating southeast to the Hadarac Desert. No one knows why and it wouldn't concern us, but they are passing through populated areas. They've been spotted on roads and outside cities. Worst of all are reports of a Shade, though the stories are unconfirmed. Few people survive these encounters."

"Why have we not heard of this?" Eragon asked.

"Because it only began a few months ago," Merlock replied, grimly. "Whole villages have been forced to move because Urgals have destroyed their fields and starvation threatens."

"Nonsense," Garrow grumbled. "We haven't seen any Urgals. The only one around here has his horns mounted in Moun's Tavern."

Blaster remembered noticing these the first day he asked for room. They were shiny black, and they were about as long as his outstretched arms. He then noticed Merlock raise an eyebrow.

"Maybe so," the trader said, "but this is a small village hidden by mountains. It's not surprising you haven't been noticed. However, I wouldn't expect that to last. Because strange things are happening here if you found such stones in the Spine." With that, he bid them farewell and ushered them politely out of the tent.

Blaster and Eragon decided against selling their stones. However, they split paths once they saw Sloan round a corner. Eragon dove into Moun's tavern, while Blaster decided to hike in the woods. After a few minutes, making sure he was alone, he tried again to speak to Alice. She was still having trouble trying to get through the interference, stating that it kept changing on her when she had just about cracked it. Blaster figured he'd leave her to it, since she wasn't one to get really flustered, being a computer in all.

Blaster and Eragon managed to meet up again while heading to Horst's for dinner later that night. It was such a hearty meal that Blaster went for seconds, which he rarely ever did. Once dinner and the conversations that went with it came to an end, the group, including Roran and Garrow, went to where the merchants were camped out. Bonfires blazed in the background of a clearing surrounded by a ring of poles, each with a lit candle atop them. The other villagers converged. Then, the troubadours emerged from their tents, dressed in tasseled clothes and followed up by older, more stately minstrels.

The people were soon entertained by the minstrels, who narrated and played music for their younger counterparts. Performances included everything from ridiculous characters to witty one-line jokes. When the candles began to darken, the stage was occupied by Brom, the old story teller. He had a knotted white beard that rippled over his chest, and a long black cape that wrapped around his shoulders, hiding his body. The spread his arms wide before diving headlong into his story.

"The sands of time cannot be stopped. Years pass whether we will them or not…but we can remember. What has been lost may yet live on in memories. That which you will hear is imperfect and fragmented, yet treasure it, for with out you it does not exist. I give you now a memory that has been forgotten, hidden in the dreamy haze that lies behind us."

His eyes inspected all their interested faces, lingering on Blaster, then last of all, Eragon.

"Before your grandfathers' fathers were born, and yea, even before their fathers, the Dragon Riders were formed. To protect and guard was their mission, and for thousands of years, they succeeded. Their prowess in battle was unmatched, for each had the strength of ten men. They were immortal unless blade or poison took them. For good only were their powers used, and under their tutelage tall cities and towers were built out of the living stone. While they kept peace, the land flourished. It was a golden time. The elves were are allies, the dwarves our friends. Wealth flowed into our cities, and men prospered. But weep…for it could not last."

Brom looked down silently, and his voice seemed to resonate with infinite sadness.

"Though no enemy could destroy them, they could not guard against themselves. And it came to pass at the height of their power that a boy, Galbatorix by name, was born in the province of Inzilbêth, which is no more. At ten, he was tested, as was the custom, and it was found that great power resided in him. The Riders accepted him as their own.

"Through their training he passed, exceeding all others in skill. Gifted with a sharp mind and strong body, he quickly took his place among the Riders' ranks. Some saw his abrupt rise as dangerous and warned others, but the Riders had grown arrogant in their power and ignored caution. Alas sorrow was conceived that day.

"So it was that soon after his training was finished, Galbatorix took a reckless trip with two friends. Far north they flew, night and day, and passed into the Urgals' remaining territory, foolishly thinking their new powers would protect them. There on a thick sheet of ice, unmelted even in summer, they were ambushed in their sleep. Though his friends and their dragons were butchered and he suffered great wounds, Galbatorix slew his attackers. Tragically, during the fight a stray arrow pierced his dragon's heart. Without the arts to save her, she died in his arms. Then were the seeds of madness planted."

Brom clasped his hands and looked around slowly, shadows flickering from the candles on his face. He continued, his words coming like the mournful toll of a requiem.

"Alone, bereft of much of his strength and half mad with loss, Galbatorix wandered without hope in that desolate land, seeking death. It did not come to him, though he threw himself without feat against any living thing. Urgals and other monsters soon fled from his haunted form. During this time he came to realize that the Riders might grant him another dragon. Driven by this thought, he began the arduous journey, on foot, back through the Spine. Territory he had soared over effortlessly on a dragon's back now took him months to traverse. He could hunt with magic, but often times he walked in places where animals did not travel. Thus when his feet finally left the mountain, he was close to death. A farmer found him collapsed in the mud and summoned the Riders.

"Unconscious, he was taken to their holdings, and his body healed. He slept for four days. Upon awakening he gave no sign of his fevered mind. When he was brought before a council convened to judge him, Galbatorix demanded another dragon. The desperation of the request revealed his dementia, and the council saw him for what he truly was. Denied his hope, Galbatorix, through the twisted mirror of his madness, came to believe it was the Riders' fault his dragon had died. Night after night he brooded on that and formulated a plan to exact revenge."

Brom's voice dropped to a mesmerizing whisper as he continued.

"He found a sympathetic Rider, and there his insidious words took root. By persistent reasoning and the use of dark secrets learned from a Shade, he inflamed the Rider against their elders. Together they treacherously lured and killed an elder. When the foul deed was done, Galbatorix turned on his ally and slaughtered him without warning. The Riders found him, then, with blood dripping from his hands. A scream tore from his lips, and he fled into the night. As he was cunning in his madness, they could not find him.

"For years, he hid in wastelands like a hunted animal, always watching for pursuer. His atrocity was not forgotten, but over time, searches ceased. Then through some ill fortune he met a young Rider, Morzan—strong of body, but weak of mind. Galbatorix convinced Morzan to leave the gate unbolted in the citadel Ilirea, which is now called Urû'baen. Through this gate Galbatorix entered and stole a dragon hatchling.

"He and his new disciple hid themselves in an evil place where the Riders dared not venture. There Morzan entered into a dark apprenticeship, learning secrets and forbidden magic that should never have been revealed. When his instruction was finished and Galbatorix's black dragon, Shruikan, was fully grown, Galbatorix revealed himself to the world, with Morzan at his side. Together they fought any Rider they met. With each kill their strength grew. Twelve of the Riders joined Galbatorix out of desire for power and revenge against perceived wrongs. Those twelve, with Morzan, became the Thirteen Forsworn. The Riders were unprepared and fell beneath the onslaught. The elves, too, fought bitterly against Galbatorix, but the were overthrown and forced to flee to their secret places, from whence they come no more.

"Only Vrael, leader of the Riders, could resist Galbatorix and the Forsworn. Ancient and wise, he struggled to save what he could and keep the remaining dragons from falling to his enemies. In the last battle, before the gates of Dorú Areaba, Vrael defeated Galbatorix, but hesitated with the final blow. Galbatorix seized the moment and smote him in the side. Grievously wounded, Vrael fled to Utgard Mountain, where he hoped to gather strength. But it was not to be, for Galbatorix found him. As they fought, Galbatorix kicked Vrael in the fork of his legs. With that underhanded blow, he gained dominance over Vrael and removed his head with a blazing sword.

"Then as power rushed through his veins, Galbatorix anointed himself king over all Alagaësia.

"And from that day, he has ruled us."

Brom shuffled away with the troubadours when he had finished his story. Tears could be seen on his cheek. The people murmured to each other as they departed. Blaster turned just in time to hear Garrow say to Eragon and Roran, "Consider yourselves fortunate. I have heard this tale only twice in my life. If the Empire knew that Brom had recited it, he would not live to see a new month."

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><p><strong>Next time:<strong> What will Blaster and Eragon do with the stones? And what is the purpose of the story Brom told? Stay tuned to the next chapter.


	4. Ch3: Gifts of Fate

Free Riders

Author's Note: I do not own any part of the Inheritance Cycle. The only characters I own are Blaster, Char, and a yet-unnamed dragon.

Chapter 3: Gifts of Fate

That night, Blaster sat on his bed, meditating like he normally did. His mind suddenly became aware of a strange squeaking noise. He did a once-over of the room, but failed to see anything, and went back to meditating. Another squeak pierced the silence and caused Blaster to bolt upright. He opened the shudders just enough to let in the moonlight. While Blaster wasn't really accustomed to the darkness, he was able to see in as little light as possible as if it were broad daylight.

Another squeak sounded, and Blaster, using what was working on his wrist computer, managed to find the source of the squeaking. It was his own silver stone. A grin crept across his face as the stone squeaked again. No, something _inside_ the stone had squeaked again. Blaster's first thought was that this thing wasn't a stone, but an egg. However, he was curious to find out what secret the egg hid. Was it a really large bird, or was it something else?

At least half an hour later, the egg began to rock back and forth violently, stirring Blaster from his meditation yet again. The squeaking and rocking picked up, faster and faster. It was so much that Blaster had put up a temporary sound-proof barrier around him and the egg. It suddenly fell to the floor and rolled towards Blaster. Curious, the alien got down on his stomach to watch.

A crack appeared on the egg, meaning that Blaster was moments away from seeing whatever was hatching out of it. Another crack appeared, then another. All the cracks met up at the top, and a small piece wobbled on the top. It slowly rose, then toppled to the floor. Another series of squeaks followed. Then, a small, dark head poked out of the hole, followed by a weirdly angular body. It didn't take long for it to completely emerge from the egg.

"Well, look at you," Blaster said, speaking to it as if it were his own newborn child. "Aren't you a beauty."

The creature stayed put for a second before scurrying to the moonlight. Blaster looked at amazement at the animal before him. What sat there, licking the remains of the membrane that had once encased it, was a dragon. It was just shorter than his forearm, but seemed rather dignified and noble. Its scales were a bright silver, the same color as the egg. The wings were several times larger than the dragon, and they made it look distorted in the moonlight. They were ribbed with fingers of bone extending from the front edge of the wing, like long talons. The head was roughly triangular, and the mouth held two diminutive fangs, white as the web on the egg. The claws were just as white, and just as sharp-looking, but more so on the claws because they looked serrated on the inside curve. A row of dark-silver spikes ran down the dragon's spine, with an abnormal gap, or hollow, in the spikes where the neck met the shoulders.

"Welcome to the world," Blaster said, not knowing if the dragon could hear him. "Not sure if this is a good idea. I mean, seriously, you could be dangerous. Then again, comparatively, I look relatively dangerous to you at the moment."

The dragon wasn't interested in Blaster. Instead it was busy exploring the area, squealing any time it managed to run into the furniture or a wall. It managed to get on Blaster's bed with a fluttering of its wings, and curled up on the pillow. It opened its mouth like a chick's, showing rows of sharp teeth. Blaster approached, let it smell his hand, nibble at his sleeve, and pull his arm back. Blaster smiled and placed his right hand on the dragon's flank. A blast of icy energy surged into his hand and raced up his arm, burning in his veins like it was liquid fire. He fell back, holding back a scream. He heard an iron clang, and heard the soundless scream of rage. He was unable to move, but struggled anyway. It seemed like hours before he regained warmth in his limbs, leaving them tingling. He pushed himself upright, shaking slightly. He looked at his palm and noticed it shimmered and formed a diffused white circle. The skin seemed to itch and burn as if it were a bug bite.

Blaster then felt something brush against his mind, like it was a finger trailing over his skin. This feeling wasn't new to him in the way that he had felt something similar before. However, he did know it was something brand new to him. This tendril of thought was of growing curiosity. He wanted to touch the mind of the dragon, but decided against it. He threw up a temporary barrier, hoping the dragon would understand that he needed a few minutes to adjust.

A scaly leg scraped against his side, but he didn't feel the energy again. He began to rub the dragon's head with his right hand, sending a tingling up his arm. The dragon nuzzled him, arching its back like a cat. He felt the thin membrane of the wings, still slightly damp, but they felt like old parchment. Again, Blaster had a tendril touch his mind, but it was more of an overpowering, ravenous hunger.

"You're hungry, aren't ya?" Blaster asked. He pulled two strips of dried meat from his pack, and, as he cut it up, he watched as the dragon fluttered over to the windowsill, watching the moon. Blaster cut the meat, then whistled for the dragon to come closer. He offered a piece of meat, and the dragon sniffed it cautiously before jabbing its head forward and snatching the meat out of his hand, swallowing it whole with a peculiar jerk. It then prodded Blaster's hand for more food.

Blaster continued offering the dragon food, all the way up until there was one small piece left. At that point, the dragon's belly was practically bulging, fit to burst if much more food was added. Blaster offered the last piece and the dragon considered it for a moment before lazily snapping it up, licking it's chops as it finished. Now done eating, it crawled up onto his arm and curled up against his chest. It snorted, releasing a puff of smoke from its nostrils. Soon, Blaster heard a low humming coming from its vibrating throat, similar to a cat purring. He gently carried it to the bed and set it by the pillow. The dragon wrapped its tail around the bedpost contently, leaving Blaster to ponder his dilemma.

He knew that if he would raise this dragon, he would probably become one of those Riders that Brom had mentioned in his stories. However, he had heard that, unless he joined the king, if the Empire had discovered the dragon, he would be killed. Blaster smiled, glad he didn't have to worry much about death, but he still was cautious when it came to getting himself killed. He couldn't kill the dragon. It had just hatched, and it needed to see the world for what it was, not be killed the moment it emerged from the egg. His next issue was where to keep it. He couldn't leave it in the tavern because he didn't want it to grow and have others find out about it.

He finally came to a decision. Blaster figured that he'd ask Eragon to see if he knew a good hiding spot when morning came. The alien went back to meditating before the dawn broke. When it had, he noticed the dragon was sitting on the bedpost, welcoming the new day. The silver scales shone like polished steel, but without the reflection. Blaster took a look at his palm and saw the shiny circle from where he touched the dragon. He knew it was a good thing to start taking up the black fingerless gloves he got in his second adventure because they would help with trying to hide his new mark.

Blaster grabbed some meat as the dragon glided to the floor. He then carefully picked up the dragon, his dragon, and hid it in a side pocket. After poking in its mind, which was much more alien than he had ever anticipated, and telling it that it should stay quiet for a while, he left the town towards Eragon's. When he got there, he noticed a fresh set of tracks leading to the woods. Thinking Eragon's dragon had hatched as well, Blaster followed the tracks, moving his dragon to his shoulder. He finally spotted the boy standing by a rowan tree that stood alone in the knoll. He had already harnessed his dragon, which was exploring the snow around the tree. This one was as sapphire as the egg it was housed in.

Eragon was busy making a makeshift hut in the higher branches. He slipped at one point and ended up crashing to the ground. Blaster couldn't help but chuckle, causing Eragon to whip around, thinking Blaster was one of the townsfolk.

"You think you could build enough room for one more?" Blaster asked. At that point, the sapphire dragon noticed Blaster's silver dragon, and the two glided towards each other to investigate. "Yours hatched too, I see."

Eragon nodded, then explained how his had hatched overnight, same as Blaster's. They then compared their new marks. While Blaster's was completely circular, Eragon's was a silver oval. The two began their work on the little hut to protect their two dragons. Satisfied with their work about half an hour later, they put their dragons in the hut, then instructed them to stay. Eragon was having a harder time trying to convince his dragon to stay put, but Blaster managed to explain the situation to his dragon clearly enough that it nodded as if to say that it understood. That was something coming from a barely twelve-hour old dragon.

The two went their separate ways, trying to hide the remains of their eggs. Blaster, simultaneously, became suspicious that someone might know that two new dragons have hatched. After finally getting through a majority of the interference, albeit temporarily, Blaster was able to have Alice beam him a special bag. Inside the bag was an assortment of clips and bullets. What was special about this bag was that it looked like a small money pouch on the outside, but held at least a million times what it looked like it was capable of, without weighing him down.

Finally glad he had extra ammo for his weapons, Blaster pulled all his guns from the bag he came with. He had already loaded all of them, but he thought it would be best to make sure everything was in working order. Two police-issue pistols, a double-action revolver, a shotgun, an AK-47, and a high-powered sniper rifle were his other armaments besides his powers, and his trusty crystalline blade, Cratona, or Defender in Blaster's native tongue, Torillian. He also found a bow and some arrows, something that would come in handy at this point if he wanted to do long-range attacks without using his "modern" weaponry.

The day went quickly as Blaster loaded some of the spare clips for his pistols, rifle, and submachine gun. When he was done organizing both bags, he went back to the rowan tree. Eragon was already there looking into the little hut. Once again, Eragon thought Blaster was another one of the residents of Carvahall, but soon relaxed when the silver dragon tried its best to get out of its harness.

"Well, it's good to see you, too," Blaster said, taking off the harness and lifting his dragon up onto his shoulder. He turned to Eragon and added, "I take it everything is in order."

"They can get their own food," Eragon said, pulling a few feathers out of the little hut.

"Good," Blaster said. "This means we don't have to worry about swiping food from anyone to feed them."

"Indeed," Eragon said simply. Then, he seemed to have a revelation. "Are they he's or she's?"

"I have no idea," Blaster stated. Eragon lifted and turned his dragon over, trying to find distinguishing marks, ignoring the dragon's squeals of displeasure. Blaster thought about doing the same, but decided to ask when his dragon was ready to tell him. In fact, he actually dove into the mind of his dragon to ask that question, only to have it remain silent, as if begging him to find out for himself. _Tricky little thing, aren't you?_ Blaster thought, only to have his dragon seemingly smile at his failed attempt.

Eragon likewise ended his search, unable to find any way to figure out whether his dragon was male or female. Eventually, he too released his dragon and set it on his shoulder. The four then went to explore the woods. Eragon showed the other three what he knew about the forest, not caring that the dragons could understand his meaning. He seemed to talk constantly. Blaster took in much more than he thought he should, just in case. Unfortunately, the time came when the sun began to set and both Blaster and Eragon had to head home.

Blaster, once again, told his dragon to stay there, and possibly explain why they couldn't come along to Eragon's dragon. That night, Blaster barely meditated, keeping an eye on the dragons just in case they somehow managed to get attacked by a bear or something. He could sense Eragon's worry as well, his thoughts about ice storms not helping any. In fact, at one point, Blaster thought about actually physically going to the rowan tree in order to protect the dragons more.

When the sun began to rise the next day, Blaster was out the door quicker than anyone, some spare meat of his in hand. He ran into Eragon as he exited his house with food and some scraps of cloth to insulate the shelter. The dragons were both awake and safe, sitting near the top of the tree to watch the sunrise. As the two approached the tree, their respective dragons glided down towards them then lept into their arms. Blaster could sense their fear, even though the cold had not affected them. They all sat together, the "humans" warming up their dragons, until they crawled onto their partner's shoulders. They soon began to play after feeding the dragons, horsing around until it was time for Eragon to return to his home to do his chores.

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><p><strong>NEXT TIME:<strong> What will become of the dragons? What will Eragon and Blaster have to learn in order to sustain them? And why am I asking so many questions?


	5. Ch4: Tea for Three

Free Riders

Author's Note: I do not own any part of the Inheritance Cycle. The only characters I own are Blaster, Char, and a yet-unnamed dragon.

Chapter 4: Tea for Three

Time for that one month seemed to fly. The dragons growth was so explosive that Eragon and Blaster had to build a secret shelter on the ground. They also had to forgo using harnesses so that their dragons could hunt. Eragon still had trouble trying to get his dragon to stay, but Blaster was having a lot of luck, probably from his experience. The dragons would spend time in the Spine hunting, which both relieved and frightened Eragon and Blaster. Although the squeaks turned into roars, there was no fire as of yet. There were massive puffs of smoke, but no flame.

By the end of the month, the dragons shoulder was level with Eragon's elbow. Such a short time from being a small, weak animal to a powerful beast. The scales were like steel armor and the teeth were like daggers. Blaster would spend time with the dragon, but he soon found out that Sloan had tried to melt down his gold brick to make coins soon after the traders had left. He had cornered Blaster and showed him the coins, which didn't come out right, and demanded that Blaster pay off his new debt in another form. So, Blaster worked in the butcher's shop for that month. It wasn't particularly enjoyable, but at least he got a laugh while he had.

Finally, on the last day Blaster had to work, he finished and ran to the dragons, keeping well out of sight. It wasn't long before he found the perimeter of the dragon's "domain." It wasn't easy to miss, what with loads of large tracks a foot deep and piles of dung dotting the white snow. Soon, he and Eragon were at the dragon's shelter, amazed that luck had brought them there. Blaster told his dragon he was done, but, once Eragon said something about visiting Brom, the dragons seemed to be a bit upset for no reason.

Blaster was the first to calm his dragon down. Finally, after a month of just emotions, the dragon said only one word.

_Blaster._

It lightened up his heart because he would no longer have to wonder what his dragon was trying to say. However, it seemed like Eragon was afraid, because he ran back to his house. Both Blaster and his dragon looked at each other, then shrugged before Blaster went to calm the sapphire dragon down. Tomorrow, Blaster would find out what he would name his dragon, but first, he'd have to wait for that next day to arrive.

The next day, Blaster and Eragon met at the edge of town. They both walked up to Brom's house and knocked on the door. Their answer came from behind them, where Brom stood, leaning against a twisted staff with strange carvings. His brown cloak made him look like a friar. He had a pouch hanging from a scuffed leather belt, and his nose hooked over his mouth and white beard. He peered at the two with deep-set eyes as he awaited their reasoning for waiting outside his front door.

"Roran is getting a chisel fixed and I had free time, so we came to see if you could answer a few questions," Eragon said.

Brom grunted and reached for the door. Eragon and Blaster noticed a gold ring on his right hand, and light glinted off a sapphire with a strange symbol carved on its face.

"You might as well come in," Brom said. "We'll be talking awhile. Your questions never seem to end." The interior of the house was darker than charcoal, an acrid smell heavy in the air. "Now, for a light." The two heard the old man move around, then a low curse as something crashed to the floor. "Ah, here we go." A white spark flashed and a flame wavered into existence.

Brom stood with a candle before a stone fireplace. Stacks of books surrounded a high-backed, deeply carved chair that faced the mantle. The four legs were shaped like eagle claws, and the seat and back were padded with leather embossed with a swirling rose pattern. A cluster of lesser chairs held piles of scrolls. Ink pots and pens were scattered across a writing desk. After a warning that some if these items were very valuable, Eragon and Blaster stepped over pages of parchment that were covered with angular runes. They carefully set two chair-fulls of crumbling scrolls on the floor, then sat down in a cloud of dust. Blaster could tell that Eragon was trying his best to stifle a sneeze.

Brom bent down and lit the fire with his candle, saying something about sitting by a fire for conversation that Blaster didn't really catch. Finally, Brom un-hooded himself, revealing silver hair instead of white, then placed a kettle over the fire before settling into the high-backed chair.

"Now, what do you want?" Brom asked, roughly, but not unkindly.

"Well," Eragon replied, wondering how best to approach the subject. "We keep hearing about the Dragon Riders and their supposed accomplishments. Most everyone seems to want them to return, but I've never heard tell of how they were started, where the dragons came from, or what made them special—aside from the dragons."

"A vast subject to tell about," grumbled Brom. He peered at the two alertly. "If I told you their whole story, we would be still sitting here when winter comes again. It will have to be reduced to a manageable length. But before we start properly, I need my pipe."

They waited patiently as Brom tamped down the tobacco. Blaster could tell that Eragon liked Brom, and it was easy to see why. The old man was irascible at times, but he never seemed to mind taking time for curious folks, like Eragon. Even at this moment, Blaster found it hard to _not_ like Brom. However, he had found out from Garrow after the story-telling that Brom was only in Carvahall for about fifteen years.

Brom used at tinderbox to light the pipe. He puffed a few times, then said, "There…we won't have to stop, except for the tea. Now, about the riders, or the Shur'tugal, as they are called by the elves. Where to start? They spanned countless years and, at the height of their power, held sway over twice the Empire's lands. Numerous stories have been told about them, most nonsense. If you believed everything said, you would expect them to have the powers of a lesser god. Scholars have devoted entire lives to separating those fictions from fact, but it's doubtful any of them will succeed. However, it isn't an impossible task if we confine ourselves to the three areas you specified: how the Riders begain, why they were so highly regarded, and where the dragons came from. I shall start with the last item." Eragon settled back, listening to the man's mesmerizing voice.

"Dragons have no beginning, unless it lies with the creation of Alagaësia itself. And if they have an end, it will be when this world perishes, for they suffer as the land does. They, the dwarves, and a few others are the true inhabitants of this land. They lived here before all others, strong and proud in their elemental glory. Their world was unchanging until the first elves sailed over the sea on their silver ships."

"Where did the elves come from?" interrupted Eragon. "And why are they called the fair folk? Do they really exist?"

"Okay," Blaster said. "Eragon, do you want your original questions answered, or not? They won't be if we go exploring every obscure piece of knowledge this side of the Spine."

"Sorry," Eragon said. He dipped his head and tried to look contrite.

"No, you're not," Brom replied with some amusement. He shifted his gaze to the fire and watched the flames lick at the underside of the kettle. "If you must know, elves are not legends, and they are called the fair folk because they are more graceful than any of the other races. They come from what they call Alalea, though none but they know what, or even where, it is.

"Now," he glared from under his eyebrows to make sure there would be no further interruptions, "the elves were a proud race then, and strong in magic. At first they regarded dragons as mere animals. From that belief rose a deadly mistake. A brash elven youth hunted down a dragon, as he would a stag, and killed it. Outraged, the dragons ambushed and slaughtered the elf. Unfortunately, the bloodletting did not stop there. The dragons massed together and attacked the entire elven nation. Dismayed by the terrible misunderstanding, the elves tried to end the hostilities, but couldn't find a way to communicate with the dragons.

"Thus, to greatly abbreviate a complicated series of occurrences, there was a very long and very bloody war, with both sides later regretted. At the beginning the elves fought only to defend themselves, for they were reluctant to escalate the fighting, but the dragons' ferocity eventually forced them to attack for their own survival. This lasted for five years and would have continued for much longer if an elf called Eragon found a dragon egg." Eragon blinked in surprise. "Ah, I see you didn't know of your namesake."

"No," Eragon replied. The teakettle whistled stridently. Even Blaster began to wonder why Eragon was named after an elf.

"Then you should find this all the more interesting," said Brom. He hooked the kettle out of the fire and poured boiling water into three cups. Handing two to Eragon and Blaster, he warned, "These leaves don't need to steep long, so drink it quickly before it gets too strong." Eragon tried a sip, but it scalded his tongue. Brom and Blaster set theirs down, the former continuing to smoke his pipe.

"No one knows why that egg was abandoned. Some say the parents were killed in an elven attack. Others believe the dragons purposefully left it there. Either way, Eragon saw the value of raising a friendly dragon. He cared for it secretly and, in the custom of the ancient language, named him Bid'Daum. When Bid'Daum had grown to a good size, they traveled together among the dragons and convinced them to live in peace with the elves. Treaties were formed between the two races. To ensure that war would never break out again, they decided that it was necessary to establish the Riders.

"At first the Riders were intended merely as a means of communication between the elves and dragons. However, as time passed, their worth was recognized and they were given ever more authority. Eventually they took the island Vroengard for their home and built a city on it—Dorú Areaba. Before Galbatorix overthrew them, the Riders held more power than all the kings of Alagaësia. Now I believe that answers two of your questions."

"Yes," Eragon said absently. It seemed like an incredible coincidence that he had been named after the first Rider. For some reason his name didn't feel the same anymore. "What does _Eragon_ mean?"

"I don't know," Brom replied. "It's very old. I doubt anyone remembers except the elves, and fortune would have to smile greatly before you talked with one. It is a good name to have, though; you should be proud of it. Not everyone has one so honorable."

Blaster mulled it over, wondering why his father had insisted on naming him Blastbone. However, before he could think about it long, Eragon came up with an issue. Namely, something was missing from the story. "I don't understand. Where were we when the Riders were created?"

"We?" Brom asked, raising an eyebrow.

"You know, all of us." Eragon waved his hands vaguely. "Humans in general." Brom laughed.

"We are no more native to this land than the elves. It took our ancestors another three centuries to arrive here and join the Riders."

"That can't be," Eragon protested. "We've always lived in Palancar Valley."

"That might be true for a few generations, but beyond that, no. It isn't even true for you, Eragon," Brom said gently. "Though you consider yourself part of Garrow's family, and rightly so, your sire was not from here. Ask around and you'll find many people who haven't been here that long. This valley is old and hasn't always belonged to us."

Eragon scowled and gulped at his tea. Blaster did the same to his. It was hot enough to burn his throat, but Blaster could tell that something else was burning in Eragon. Then he surprised Blaster with what appeared to be a change of subject. "What happened to the dwarves after the Riders were destroyed?"

"No one really knows. They fought with the Riders through the first few battles, but when it became clear that Galbatorix was going to win, they sealed all the known entrances to their tunnels and disappeared underground. As far as I know, not one has been seen since."

"And the dragons?" Eragon asked. "What of them? Surely they weren't all killed."

"That is the greatest mystery in Alagaësia nowadays," Brom answered sorrowfully. "How many dragons survived Galbatorix's murderous slaughter? He spared those who agreed to serve him, but only the twisted dragons of the Forsworn would assist his madness. If any dragons aside from Shruikan are still alive, they have hidden themselves so they will never be found by the Empire."

Eragon seemed to keep changing the subject slightly because he next asked, "Where the Urgals here when the elves came to Alagaësia?"

"No, they followed the elves across the sea, like ticks seeking blood. They were one of the reasons the Riders became valued for their battle prowess and ability to keep the peace…Much can be learned from history. It's a pity the king makes it a delicate subject," Brom reflected.

"Yes, we heard your story last time Eragon was in town," Blaster said.

"Story!" Brom roared. Lightning seemed to flash in his eyes. "If it is a story, then the rumors of my death are true and you are speaking to a ghost! Respect the past; you never know how it may affect you."

Eragon waited for Brom to relax before asking, "How big were the dragons?"

A dark plume of smoke swirled around Brom like a mini thunderstorm. "Larger than a house. Even the small ones had wingspans over a hundred feet; they never stopped growing. Some of the ancient ones, before the empire killed them, could have passed for large hills."

_Great_, Blaster thought. _How are we going to hide something that big in the years to come?_ Eragon too was silently raging with himself, but kept his voice calm. "When did they mature?"

"Well," Brom said, scratching his chin," they couldn't breathe fire until they were around five or six months old, which was about when they could mate. The older a dragon was, the longer it could breathe fire. Some of them could keep at it for minutes." He blew a smoke ring and watched it float up to the ceiling.

"I heard their scales shone like diamonds," Eragon said

Brom leaned forward and growled," You heard right. They came in every color and shade. It was said that a group of them looked like a living rainbow, constantly shifting and shimmering. But who told you that?"

Eragon froze for a second, then lied, "A trader."

"What was his name?" Brom asked. His white eyebrows met in a thick white line and the wrinkles deepened in his forehead. Eragon pretended to think.

"I don't know," he finally said. "He was talking in Morn's but I never found out who he was."

"I wish you had," Brom muttered.

"He also said a Rider could hear his dragon's thoughts," Eragon said quickly, hoping to avoid suspicion for his fictitious trader. Brom's eyes narrowed as he pulled out his tinderbox and relit his pipe, which had gone out a few seconds ago.

"He was wrong," Brom said in a flat voice. "It isn't in any of the stories, and I know them all. Did he say anything else?"

"No," Eragon shrugged. Brom was too interested in the fake trader, so Blaster knew it was time to change the subject.

"Did the dragons live long?" Blaster asked. Brom didn't respond at once. His chin sank to his chest while his fingers tapped the pipe thoughtfully, the light reflecting off his ring.

"Sorry, my mind was elsewhere," Brom said. "Yes, a dragon will live for quite a while, forever, in fact, as long as it isn't killed and its Rider doesn't die."

"How does anyone know that?" Eragon objected. "If dragons die when their Riders do, they could only live to be sixty or seventy. You said during your…narration that Riders lived for hundreds of years, but that's impossible." It seemed to trouble Eragon to think of him outliving his family and friends. A smile seemed to curl on Brom's lips.

"What is possible is subjective," he said, slyly. "Some would say that you cannot travel through the Spine and live, yet you do, Eragon. It's a matter of perspective. You must be very wise to know so much at such a young age." Eragon flushed, but the old man chuckled. "Don't be angry; you can't be expected to know such things. You forget that the dragons were magical—they affected everything around them in strange ways. The Riders were closest to them and experienced this the most. The most common side effect was an extended life. Our king has lived long enough to make this apparent, but most people attribute it to his magical abilities. There were also other, less noticeable changes. All the Riders were stronger of body, keener of mind, and truer of sight than normal men. Along with this, a human Rider would slowly acquire pointed ears, though they were never as prominent as an elf's."

_Another thing to worry about,_ Blaster thought. It took everything in his power to prevent himself from reaching up and checking his ears. Seconds later, he had to resist dope-slapping Eragon upside the head. "Were dragons very smart?"

"Didn't you pay attention to what I told you earlier!" Brom demanded. "How could the elves form agreements and peace treaties with dumb brutes? They were as intelligent as you or I."

"But they were animals," Eragon protested.

"They were no more animals than we are," Brom snorted. "For some reason people praise everything the Riders did, yet ignore the dragons, assuming that they were nothing more than an exotic means to get from one town to another. They weren't. The Riders' great deeds were only possible because of the dragons. How many men would draw their swords if they knew a giant fire-breathing lizard – one with more natural cunning and wisdom than even a king could hope for – would soon be there to stop the violence? Hmm?" He blew another smoke ring and watched it waft away.

"Have you ever seen one?" Blaster asked.

"Nay," Brom replied, "it was long before my time." Then Eragon spoke again.

"I've been trying to recall the name of a certain dragon, but it keeps eluding me. I think I heard it when the traders were in Carvahall, but I'm not sure. Could you help me?"

Brom shrugged and rifled off a stream of names. "There was Jura, Hírador, and Fundor—who fought the giant seas snake. Galzra, Briam, Ohen the Strong, Gretiem, Beroan, Roslarb…" He added many others. At the end, he uttered one so softly that even Blaster almost didn't hear, "…and Saphira." Brom emptied his pipe. "Was it any of those?"

"Afraid not," Eragon replied. Brom had given them much to think about, and it was beginning to get late. "Well, Roran's probably finished with Horst. I should get back, though I'd rather not."

Brom raised an eyebrow. "What, is that it? I expected to be answering your questions until he came looking for you. No queries about dragon battle tactics or requests for descriptions of breathtaking aerial combat? Are we done?"

"For now," Eragon laughed. "I learned what I wanted to and more." He, Blaster and Brom all stood up.

"And, Blastbone," Brom said. "An interesting name to say the least. You have been quiet all along. How come?"

"Well, sir," Blaster replied, "I was just as interested in the same topics, but haven't had the time to talk to you, what with being forced to work with Sloan. I really regret giving him that brick of fool's gold now, but at least it was good to see him humbled by it."

"Very well, then," Brom said. He ushered them to the door. "Goodbye. Take care. And don't forget, if you remember who that trader was, tell me."

"I will, thanks." The two stepped out into the sun, but Eragon went one way, pondering over much of what he had heard.

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><p><strong>What names will they chose? How long can they keep a secret? Tune in...er, SIGN in next time for another exciting (or boring, depending on your POV) chapter of Free Riders.<strong>


	6. Ch5: Names and Strangers

Free Riders

Author's Note: I do not own any part of the Inheritance Cycle. The only characters I own are Blaster, Char, and a yet-unnamed dragon (to be named this chapter).

Chapter 5: Names and Strangers.

Blaster and Eragon met that evening and found the two dragons where they had left them. Blaster noticed Eragon walking towards the dragons apprehensively, aware now that they were equals. Blaster too approached them, but not as apprehensively.

_Blaster._

"Is that all you can say?" Blaster and Eragon snapped at the same time. Apparently, the sapphire dragon had said Eragon's name as well.

_Yes._

"Oh great," Blaster muttered. "They've developed a sense of humor. Lovely."

Apparently, from what Blaster was soon to find out, Roran had told Eragon that he was going to Therinsford to become a miller, and it apparently put Eragon in a foul mood. He got questioning looks about his mood from both dragons and Blaster, so he told them what he had been told. He went over the top, yelling pointlessly into the air, ranting until his emotions were spent and ineffectually punched the ground.

"I don't want him to go, that's all," Eragon finally said, helplessly. The dragons listened and learned from watching Eragon. He finally mumbled a few choice curses and rubbed his eyes, then looked at his dragon thoughtfully. "You need a name. I heard some interesting ones today; perhaps you'll like one." He mentally went through his list, but Blaster had already thought about something important. The gender of the dragon. Eragon didn't care as he finally made a decision. "What do you think of Vanilor or his successor, Eridor? Both were great dragons."

_No,_ his dragon replied, speaking for the first time with Blaster and his dragon. _Eragon._

"That's _my_ name; you can't have it," he said, rubbing his chin. "Well, if you don't like those, there are others." He continued through the list, but the sapphire dragon rejected every one he proposed. Blaster and his dragon saw what was wrong after the fourth name in, and it didn't take them long to start laughing at Eragon for something he was clearly missing. "There was Ingothold, he slew the…" Then it hit him like a ton of bricks. Finally, he realized he was trying to give a female dragon a male name.

"Took you long enough," Blaster said. The sapphire dragon folded her wings smugly. Eragon seemed to rifle through all the names in his head, but only one stood out. Blaster knew as well what name he would pick. It was the last name Brom had barely muttered.

"Are you Saphira?" Eragon asked.

_Yes._ Blaster could feel her satisfaction at the name.

"Okay, your turn," Eragon said. "Let's just hope you have more luck than I do."

"First off, I need to know what gender mine is," Blaster said. He turned to his dragon and asked, "Are you a male?"

_No_, the dragon replied.

"So, you are a lady," Blaster said. His dragon nodded. "Then I have the perfect name for you." He thought for a second. "Saranya, or Sara for short."

"Saranya?" Eragon asked.

"From where I come from, there are many religions," Blaster said. "One of which is Hinduism, where people believe in reincarnation. Saranya is the Hindu goddess of the dawn and the clouds."

"Where do you come from?" Eragon asked.

"From a land far away," Blaster replied. "I have no idea where you would find it. But, anyway," he turned to his dragon, "Is the name Saranya a fitting enough name for you?"

_Yes_. Something seemed to click as she expressed her satisfaction.

"Saphira and Sara," Eragon said. "What were the chances of getting two female dragons?"

"Unless there is a greater chance of a dragon giving birth to males than females, our chances were one in four," Blaster replied. Eragon looked at Blaster curiously. "I studied with a scholar a few years back."

Eragon and Blaster smiled as their dragons started humming.

Two weeks later, Eragon saw Roran off. In that time, both he and Blaster had become accustomed to Saphira and Sara, even delving into their character. Saphira once caught an eagle and, instead of eating it, released it, saying, _No hunter of the sky should end his days as prey. Better to die on the wing than pinned to the ground_. It seemed that Sara had a similar lease on life. However, they both expressed that they were reluctant to be seen, and both Eragon and Blaster agreed, partially out of selfishness. Blaster had heard Eragon muttering about waiting for a sign that it was the right time to reveal the dragons.

Blaster met Roran and Eragon at the edge of the city. Even though he had only met Roran more than a month ago, through Eragon, he was almost like family to Blaster. Dempton, the mill owner in Therinsford, and Horst stood by the blacksmith's forge. Dempton approached the group with a smile beneath his flamboyant red mustache.

"Roran!" The miller said. "I'm glad you came. There's going to be more work than I can handle with my new grindstones. Are you ready to go?"

"Yes," Roran said, hefting his pack. "Do we leave soon?"

"I've a few things to take care of first, but we'll be off within the hour." Eragon shifted his feet as Dempton turned to him, tugging at the corner of his mustache. "You must be Eragon. I would offer you a job too, but Roran got the only one. Maybe in a year or two, eh?" He turned to Blaster. "And you are?"

"Old friend," Blaster lied. "Just come to see Roran off."

"Good, very good," Dempton replied. He began to talk to Roran about how a mill worked when Horst interrupted his conversation.

"They're ready to go," Horst said, gesturing at the table where several bundles rested. "You can take them whenever you want to." He and Dempton shook hands, then Horst left the smithy, beckoning to Eragon and Blaster on the way out.

Both were interested, and immediately followed. They found the smith standing in the street with his arms crossed. Eragon thrust his thumb back toward the miller and asked, "What do you think of him?"

"A good man," Horst rumbled. "He'll do fine with Roran." He absently brushed metal fiilings off his apron, then put a massive hand on Eragon's shoulder. "Lad, do you remember the fight you had with Sloan?"

"If you're asking about payment for the meat, I haven't forgotten."

"No, I trust you, lad. What I wanted to know is if you still have that blue stone."

Blaster could tell Eragon was trying his best not to panic. He kept it under control as he replied, "I do, but why do you ask?"

"As soon as you return home, get rid of it," Horst replied. "Two men arrived here yesterday. Strange fellows dressed in black and carrying swords."

"I carry a sword," Blaster retorted. True, he did carry a sword, but he deliberately left it in his room today.

"True," Horst acknowledged. "But these guys made my skin crawl just by looking at them. Last evening they started asking people if a couple of stones similar to yours had been found." Blaster's heart tensed as well. "One was exactly like yours, but the other was reportedly silver." Now Blaster was trying his best to keep from panicking. "They're at it again today. No one with any sense said anything. They know trouble when they see it, but I could name a few people who will talk."

Dread seemed to fill both Blaster and Eragon at the same time. Whoever had sent the stone that brought Blaster here had finally tracked it down and wanted it back. Or worse, the Empire had somehow learned of Saphira and Sara. Eragon was as casual as ever, taking all of his self-control to do so.

"Thanks for telling me," Eragon said. "Do you know where they are?" Even Blaster was surprised Eragon's voice barely even trembled.

"I didn't warn you because I thought you needed to meet those men!" Horst replied. "Leave Carvahall. Go home."

"All right," Eragon replied, "if you think I should."

"I do," Horst replied. His face softened. "I may be overreacting, but these strangers give me a bad feeling. It would be better if you stay home until they leave. I'll try to keep them away from your farm, though it may not do any good."

Eragon looked at him gratefully. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but kept it too himself. "I'll leave now," he said, and hurried back to Roran.

"Did you say the other one was a silver one?" Blaster asked as soon as Eragon was talking to Roran. Horst nodded, and Blaster silently cursed. "Because I met Eragon seconds after his stone appeared in the Spine, and there was a second, silver one with it. That one I took. But I have not yet rid myself of it."

"Then do so," Horst warned. "I'm sure Sloan might mention you. I'm actually surprised they didn't talk to you earlier."

"Me too," Blaster replied. _And why did I not notice this sooner?_ He thought to himself. _Adventuring rule #7: Always remember to observe ALL of your surroundings._ He straightened up. "I thank you. As soon as I get the chance, I shall leave Carvahall until such time it is safe for me to return, if at all. Until then, I shall protect Eragon until he gets to the edge of town, then I shall leave town myself."

Horst nodded in agreement, then watched as Eragon walked towards the outskirts. Blaster soon caught up. Eragon then ducked behind a house and sneaked back through the village as soon as the smithy was out of sight. They kept to the shadows, Blaster being a little more cautious than Eragon, each giving their voiceless complaint that they didn't really want to have someone else there, but were glad that, if something went south, they would have someone to help defend each other. They kept their ears peeled, Eragon wishing he had his bow and Blaster wishing he had his sword. They continued until they heard a sibilant voice from around a house. However, even Blaster had to strain to hear what was being said.

"When did this happen?" The words were smooth and oily, seemingly worming their way through the air. Underlying the speech was a strange hiss that made his scalp prickle.

"About three months ago," a voice answered. It didn't take long for them to recognize the voice as Sloan's.

Blaster knew that he was telling them, and resolved to beat the butcher to a pulp next time they met. When a third person spoke, the voice was deep and moist. Images of creeping decay, mold, and other things better left untouched wormed their way into Blaster's mind.

"Are you sure?" it asked. "We would hate to think you had made a mistake. If that were so, it would be most…unpleasant." Blaster shivered, trying not to imagine what they would do. It became obvious that whomever sent the eggs originally might be powerful enough to use force without impunity.

"Yeah, I'm sure," Sloan replied. "He had it then. Brought it in with someone he had found. I'm not lying. Plenty of people know about it. Go ask them." He sounded shaken and said something else neither could catch.

"They have been…rather uncooperative," the first replied. His words were derisive, and he paused for a few seconds. "Your information has been helpful. We will not forget you." Eragon believed him.

Sloan muttered something, then the two eavesdroppers heard someone hurrying away. Blaster quickly stood atop a crate, and both of them peered around the corner to see what was happening. Two tall men stood in the street, both dressed in long black cloaks that were lifted by sheaths poking past their legs. On their shirts were insignias that were intricately wrought with silver thread. Their faces were hidden by hoods, and gloves covered their hands. Their backs were oddly humped, as though their clothes were stuffed with padding.

Eragon shifted to get a better view while Blaster finally fished out a tiny periscope to get his better view. One of the strangers stiffened and grunted peculiarly to his companion. They both swiveled around and sank into crouches. Eragon's breath caught and mortal fear clenched him. Blaster did the best he could to curb his fear. Their eyes locked onto their hidden faces, but it seemed that Eragon was affected because he was rooted in place. Blaster saw his legs sway, but he didn't move. The strangers stalked towards them with a smooth, noiseless gait. Eragon and Blaster knew that they could see Eragon's face now, but not sure that they could see him. They were almost to the corner, hands grasping at swords…

"Eragon!" He jerked when his name was called, and Blaster too turned. The strangers froze in place and hissed. Brom hurried toward them from the side, head bare and staff in hand. The strangers were blocked from the old man's view, and Blaster could tell that Eragon was trying to warn Brom, but his tongue wouldn't work. Blaster was about to warn Brom as he called for Eragon again, only to have the strangers give Eragon one last look before slipping away between the houses.

Eragon collapsed to the ground, shivering. Blaster jumped down to help the fallen boy. Sweat beaded on his forehead and made his palms sticky. The old man finally arrived and offered Eragon a hand, pulling him up with a strong arm. "You look sick; is all well?" Brom asked.

Eragon gulped and nodded mutely. His eyes flickered around, looking for something unusual. Blaster did the same.

"I just got dizzy all of a sudden…it's passed," Eragon said. "It was very odd—I don't know why it happened."

"You'll recover," said Brom, "but perhaps it would be better if you went home."

"I agree, Eragon," Blaster replied. He then added in a low voice that Brom couldn't hear, "Better to get home before those strangers do."

"I think you're right," Eragon said. "Maybe I'm getting ill."

"Then home is the best place for you," Brom said. "It's a long walk, but I'm sure you'll feel better by the time you arrive. Let me escort you to the road." Eragon did not protest as Brom took his arm and led him away at a quick pace, Blaster in toe. He had promised Horst that he would escort Eragon out of town. Brom's staff crunched in the snow as they passed the houses.

"Why were you looking for me?" Eragon asked.

"Simple curiosity," Brom shrugged. "I learned you were in town and wondered if you had remembered the name of that trader."

Eragon stared blankly; his confusion caught Brom's attention. "No," he said, then amended himself, "I'm afraid I still don't remember." Brom sighed gruffly, as if he had gotten confirmation on something, and rubbed his eagle nose.

"Well, then," Brom said, "if you do, come tell me. I am most interested in this trader who pretends to know so much about dragons." Eragon nodded with a distracted air, and Blaster could see it. They all walked in silence to the road, then Brom said, "Hasten home. I don't think it would be a good idea to tarry on the way." He offered a gnarled hand.

Eragon shook it but as he let go, something in Brom's hand caught on Eragon's mitt and pulled it off. It fell to the ground, and the old man picked it up, apologizing as he did before handing it back. As Eragon took the mitt, Brom's strong fingers wrapped around his wrist and twisted sharply. His palm briefly faced upward, revealing his silvery mark. Brom's eyes glinted, but he let Eragon yank his hand back and jam it into his mit.

"Goodbye," Eragon forced out, perturbed, and hurried down the road. Brom began to whistle a merry tune for a few seconds before Blaster confronted him.

"What was that about?" Blaster asked.

"I had to know," Brom replied. "I find it strange that you and Eragon seem to have a bond. But, I mustn't worry about that." He shook Blaster's hand, but he didn't attempt to remove Blaster's fingerless glove. "You get back to that tavern and pack up, since I heard that you might be the next person those strangers interrogate."

Blaster nodded, then quickly left.

* * *

><p><strong>Who are the strangers? What will they do next? How much longer into this story must we wait to see some action? (The answer to that last one is VERY shortly.) Tune in next time for another exciting, riveting, heart-wrenching, terrifying chapter of <em>Free <em>****_Riders._ ** Check local listings.


	7. Ch6: Carvahall Tragedy

Free Riders

Author's Note: I do not own any part of the Inheritance Cycle. The only characters I own are Blaster, Char, and Saranya.

Chapter 6: Carvahall Tragedy

Blaster was busy packing his bag for what he thought would be the first of many times. He hesitated for a second before shoving his pistols into the bag, but he strapped Cratona to his belt. He placed three gold bars on the stand with a note saying that they were real. He didn't want Morn to worry that he had gotten the same fake gold that Sloan had received, though it pleased Blaster that Sloan was humbled. Until he needed more payment.

Blaster slipped out of the tavern as night fell. He took notice of his surroundings before he walked to the edge of town. He was surprised that no one noticed him, even though his personal cloaking device wasn't working. _I guess all that work training to become a ninja with Yuffie turned out to be for the best_, he thought. When he had to take a corner, he would pull out his periscope to make sure the coast was clear before advancing further. Once he had reached a good ways away from the town, he shouted with his thoughts to Saranya.

_I come_, Sara said. She then added, _I sure hope you will tell me what made Saphira so angry._

_What made Saphira angry?_ Blaster asked. Then he realized what the problem could be. As soon as Sara landed, softly as could be, she folded her wings and waited for Blaster. _I know why Saphira became angry._ He paused, then mentioned the strangers. Sara recoiled, reared, and roared.

_Fire! Enemies! Death! Murderers!_ Blaster could feel the waves of bloodlust and fear emanating from her. He tried to get into her mind, but an iron wall shielded her thoughts. At least until Blaster employed his mind skills. He easily entered and shouted one word.

_STOP!_ Blaster looked furious. _That is why Saphira became angry, and I will not have you sounding off and letting them know where we are! You know that you are young and you fear them because they may kill you, but you failed to notice that I am here too, and that I will do my best to protect you. I also sensed some bloodlust in there. Be patient, my friend, for revenge will have to wait. But know this; you will get your chance at whatever revenge you want. However, I need you to focus on not getting us caught._

_And that's why Saphira has yet to return with Eragon?_

_ No,_ Blaster replied. His face softened greatly. _I know she will return with Eragon, but I have this nagging feeling that things will not end well. Let us rest for the night in a clearing far from here._

Sara nodded then began to walk towards a clearing far from the town. However, on their way there, they heard what sounded like shuffling. They hid, for a few seconds before Blaster looked over a small snowbank. On the other side were the strangers. They were busy packing up their camp, and, by the looks of it, they were in a hurry. Blaster had to do all he could to keep Sara out of sight and out of trouble. As soon as the strangers left, hurrying into the night, Blaster saw someone on the edge of the camp, their head cracked open. It was Brom.

Blaster checked to make sure that the strangers were far enough away before advancing into the camp. While his hair was awry, and his head bleeding slightly, he looked as though he was only knocked out for he could still feel the old man's pulse. He then noticed that Brom had not carried a weapon other than his staff. Blaster being Blaster, he decided to probe Brom's mind, only to find it scattered, possibly due to the fact he was knocked out. He and Sara decided to stay until Brom regained consciousness before leaving the old man alone.

Blaster kept watch overnight, meditating instead of sleeping because it gave him a greater idea of what was happening around him. He soon spotted the strangers, far away but they failed to return to their original camp. He continued to watch them until they began to move in a direction that he didn't want them to go. They moved to Eragon's house in the early morning hours, then, as the sun rose, Blaster felt a slight twinge as something happened. Seconds later, he was rocked out of his meditation by a loud bang, one that usually came from an explosion.

The bang awoke Sara as well, but she tried to go back to sleep. It wasn't until Blaster yelled at her did she finally get up. He told her what he had seen in his meditative state.

_Sara, I fear something terrible has happened._

_I couldn't agree more,_ Sara replied. _But what shall we do?_

_ I want you to go to Garrow's farm. Find out if that is the source of the blast. I will remain with Brom until he wakes up._

_Very well, little one,_ Sara said, dropping down on her haunches. _Be safe._

_Fly true, Saranya. Report if there is any new development. Above all things, let me know when Eragon returns, and keep yourself safe._

Sara, in an unusually human gesture, nodded, then took to the air with a powerful beat of her wings. Within minutes, she was giving Blaster what he needed to know about what she saw. He was glad that she got there so quickly, but she apparently felt that there was someone still in the building. Before he could ask her to check if it was Garrow, Brom stirred.

"Easy, ol' timer," Blaster said. "You need to get some rest."

"No," Brom replied. "I'm alright. I just need to get to Garrow's."

"If you are going to ask about that trader again," Blaster said, "I think you're going to get the same answer. Kid's mind is like a sieve sometimes." However, Brom was more interested in the tracks around him. Blaster knew it was coming.

"What are these?" Brom asked. "To me they look like dragon prints. There was a dragon here?" Then it dawned on him. "It's you. You had the other egg."

"I have no idea what you are talking about, sir," Blaster lied.

"Don't give me that," Brom replied, gruffly. "You were here last night because I felt your presence in my head while I was out. And, there are traces here and there of a dragon being here. So are you going to tell me straight or not?"

"I guess there is no avoiding it anymore," Blaster muttered. He slowly pulled off his right glove and showed Brom his palm, the silver circle in the middle. "I suppose that this is what you wanted to know."

"That is," Brom said. "And where's your dragon?"

"She is up ahead," Blaster said, putting his glove back on. "There appears to have been an explosion at Garrow's."

_Eragon comes,_ Sara said, startling Blaster. _He and Saphira are coming in fast. I will assist in any way possible._

_Thanks,_ Blaster replied. "Sara says that Eragon has returned. We should go."

"Sara?" Brom asked.

"Short for Saranya," Blaster replied. "A religion from where I come from names her as the goddess of the dawn and clouds."

Brom nodded in approval before asking, "And what is Eragon's dragon's name."

"You're gonna have to ask him, sir," Blaster said. "But now, we must go. We must help bring Garrow in. Who knows what kind of condition he's in..."

Brom nodded again, then the two got to the road as fast as they could. Less than a league away from Carvahall, they spotted Eragon. His legs were scraped up really badly, and he was dragging Garrow's life-less form. The two ran up to help out, Blaster focusing more on Garrow. Thankfully, he was still alive, but he looked like he was in the center of the blast. Seconds later, Eragon collapsed, causing Brom to run over to prevent the boy from falling on the ground. Blaster and Brom did their best, and raced Eragon and Garrow back to Carvahall.

Blaster walked out of Horst's house, wrapping his jacket around him tightly, but leaving enough room for him to draw his sword if necessary. He walked over to Brom's house, knocked once, then let himself in. He saw the old man at the lit fireplace, a kettle full of warming water inside. Blaster sat down gingerly in a chair opposite Brom. The old man had a bandage wrapped around his head, covering the wound on the side of his head.

"How is he?" Brom asked.

"He is awake," Blaster replied. "Gertrude did a good job on his legs, but I don't think they will fully heal if he keeps riding his dragon bareback like that. However, he must be feeling better since he pretty much demanded he see Garrow."

"And how is he?" Brom asked. Both he and Blaster knew that there was something that neither could do.

"He's not doing very well," Blaster replied. "His wounds will not close and will not heal. Gertrude has found nothing to help. Honestly, I even tried the powers I was born with to help, and even that had no effect. It's as if there is something wrong within his body that is preventing anything from working."

"Have you tried the ancient language?"

"Yes sir, I have, but I am unable to access that magic at this point. But it is early yet. Barely two months. It'll take time before I will be able to breach that barrier."

"Then tell me," Brom said, pouring out some hot water for the tea, "these powers you spoke of. These are only yours?" Blaster nodded before taking a sip, scalding his tounge. "And you are from another universe that runs parallel to this one?" Blaster nodded again. "Then you must remain secretive about it as you have with the secrets I bestowed upon you. Who knows what Galbatorix will learn from someone like yourself. Especially with such weapons you have. You must promise me, in the ancient language, that you will tell no one of your powers until there is no other option. In turn, I will promise not to reveal you."

"I promise," Blaster said. He paused for a second, then added, "Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur'tugal."

"Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur'tugal," Brom replied. "So, will you tell me Eragon's dragon's name?"

"I still believe that Eragon should be the one to tell you," Blaster replied.

"I understand," Brom said, sipping his tea. "I do know that you are not bound by the ancient language to keep it hidden, but I suppose that is information I can wait for. To think that there are two new Dragon Riders in the land."

"But you must keep your appearances," Blaster warned.

"I am aware." Brom rifled through his belongings and finally found two things he was looking for. Two swords. One was a short sword in a brown sheath, but the other was red, a leather wrapping beneath it, ready to protect it. Upon it was a strange symbol that Blaster had never seen before. "I see you haven't seen Zar'roc yet."

"Wait," Blaster said, doing a double take. "The sword's name is 'misery'?"

Brom nodded, then added, "It's no different than calling your sword 'Defender' in the language of your ancestors." Blaster gripped the hilt of Cratona as it sat by his chair. "This blade was once the blade of Morzan, the first and last of the Forsworn. I intend to give it to Eragon when the time is right."

Blaster nodded, and relayed some of the information he had learned to Sara so that she could tell Saphira. Blaster did his best to not inform them about the strangers, but there wasn't much he could do in the matter. Brom hadn't even given him the pleasantries of letting him know what the strangers were, but he did know one thing. Like himself, Blaster knew that these strangers were anything but human. The strangers had a good two-days head start so far, too, so he could do nothing to catch up unless they were really slow, or he used his inhuman speed, thus revealing his powers.

"Word has been sent to Roran, I presume," Brom said. Blaster, shaken from his thoughts, nodded. "Do not tell me you are planning on following them for revenge."

"No," Blaster said. "My motives aren't for revenge, but for justice. I care not that they are under the protection of the king, they must pay for the crime they have committed. To me, attacking an innocent is enough." Then his heart suddenly sank, "I hope for Garrow's recovery, but, if he were to die, then I can nail them for manslaughter, or outright murder."

"I have a feeling that I might know what's ailing Garrow, but I am not certain," Brom said. "Let's just hope things turn out for the better."

A couple days later, Blaster went over to Horst's house several hours before the dawn. He entered the house and immediately walked up to Garrow's room. Gertrude was still there, keeping silent watch over Garrow, breathing shallowly on the bed. Something twisted in Blaster's stomach as he watched the man before him fight for his life. True, he was looking better, but Blaster's scans from his wrist computer showed significant internal damage. It would take a miracle for Garrow to pull out of this.

Gertrude left the room upon Blaster's request. The strangers dominated Blaster's thoughts as he sat down to watch over Garrow. If only he had sent Sara ahead to head off the strangers, or even have her warn Garrow about his impending doom. He took the time to do one more quick scan from his wrist computer, only to find that everything was just above the lower limits, and dropping. He heard Garrow exhale, but didn't hear him inhale right afterwards. Another scan, and he was flat-lined.

"No, no, no!" Blaster shouted. He stripped his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves. "Don't do this to me now, old man!" He proceeded to do CPR, trying to resuscitate the man under the covers, but there was a pang in his heart that told him otherwise. His shout alerted Horst, Katrina, and Gertrude. They burst through the door as Blaster kept trying the chest compressions for another half a minute. Finally, Blaster gave up conventional means, knowing it was too late. Garrow, a man he had only known for about three months, was gone.

They set up a privacy curtain, and, behind it, Horst and Blaster dressed Garrow in clean clothes, and combed his hair flat. They placed him back on the bed, and crossed his arms. A silver amulet and a sprig of dried hemlock were added from Elain, the last gifts from the living to the dead. Blaster could sense that Eragon had woken up again, but he was too occupied with finishing his preparations.

"I had hoped to call him _Father_ one day…." Katrina whispered. She stood next to the bed, downcast eyes and a pale face.

Blaster did one last thing as Gertrude led Eragon away, uttering condolences. He lifted the covers over Garrow's body and covered his head before giving his last rights. It created quite a stir in the room, but no one questioned Blaster's motives. He stood there for a few seconds before he became slightly enraged. He had a new fire in his soul, and it told him that he needed to find those strangers, and maybe evidence that they premeditated their attack so that he could nail them for first-degree murder. He was shaken from his thoughts as Eragon shouted to whatever god killed Garrow to show themselves, and claiming that he didn't deserve this.

_They will pay_, Blaster thought. _Revenge is a dish best served cold. And there will be no rest for the wicked._ He then thought about Brom. _Sara, send word to Brom. Garrow has passed. Those strangers have now officially committed either manslaughter or murder. Justice must be served._

_Understood,_ Sara replied. About a minute later, she asked, _What are you planning to do now?_

_I plan to chase them down and confront them_, Blaster replied. _As soon as Eragon makes up his mind, we begin the hunt._

* * *

><p><strong>What will happen now? What is Brom's secret. How is it that I keep asking questions no one else can answer? I mean, seriously, I'm the one writing the story...<strong>

**Anyway, tune in for another exciting chapter of _Free Riders_.**

**(NOTE: Yes, he is talking about his time in the Kingdom Hearts Universe as he is leaving. I do not own that either.)  
><strong>


	8. Ch7: The Riders Blade

Free Riders

Author's Note: I do not own any part of the Inheritance Cycle. The only characters I own are Blaster, Char, and a yet-unnamed dragon.

Chapter 7: The Rider's Blade

Nothing was the same with Garrow gone. It was like the whole town was mourning. Blaster decided to confront Sloan up front, blaming the butcher for Garrow's early demise. He immediately countered, but Blaster wouldn't let the issue go until Sloan nearly slashed his hand open. Invoking his own ancient magic, Blaster cursed Sloan to lose something of his within the year. Upon reaching Horst's, Blaster heard him and Elain talking. They mentioned large tracks and the lack of skid marks between where Eragon had dropped Garrow off and the farm.

_It's become too dangerous,_ Blaster thought to himself. _There will be no way to explain Saphira's tracks and the lack of tracks leading from the farm._ He felt something brush against his mind, then heard Brom's voice almost as clear as day.

_Blaster,_ he called. _Eragon has made his decision. He plans to leave. Looks like he's getting some stuff ready. Meet me outside the village._

_Understood,_ Blaster replied. He grabbed his bag from the side of Horst's and left the village. He soon came upon tracks that led to a group of trees. Already, Brom was there, the short sword on his hip. His head was no longer bandaged, but the wound on the side of his head was still rather nasty looking. In his hands were some hides.

"What are these?" Blaster asked.

"Hides," Brom replied. "Stolen from Gedric's tannery. I intend to confront Eragon when he returns. Possibly for food."

"Probably stealing that from Sloan," Blaster said.

"I heard what you did. Very unwise of you to confront him like that."

"He doesn't even feel guilty," Blaster replied, a twinge of anger in his voice. "I tried to make him realize that he was indirectly responsible for Garrow's death, but I guess his heart of stone got the best of him."

Brom nodded, but said no more. He and Blaster moved to cover as Eragon started to return, something bulging from under his shirt. Eragon, apparently paranoid, looked around before he reached the tree where his leather was. He reached up, and found nothing there. At that point Brom emerged from behind the tree. Blaster was right behind.

"Going somewhere?" Brom asked. Eragon twirled around, and seemed to get irritated.

"Give them back," Eragon said, referring to the hides still in Brom's hands.

"Why? So you can run off before Garrow is even buried?" Brom accused.

"It's none of your business," Eragon barked, temper flaring. "Why did you follow me?"

"We didn't," Brom grunted. "We've been waiting for you here. Now, where are you going?"

"Nowhere," Eragon replied. He lunged for the skins and grabbed them from Brom. The old man didn't even try to stop him.

"I hope you have enough meat to feed your dragon." Eragon froze.

"What are you talking about?" Eragon asked. Brom crossed his arms while Blaster rolled his eyes.

"He knows, Eragon," Blaster said. "He knows about us. The mark on your hand is called the gedwëy ignasia, or the shining palm."

"And I know where it comes from," Brom added. "You two have both touched dragon hatchlings. I know why you came to me with those questions, and I know that once more the Riders live."

Eragon seemed too be trying to talk to Saphira because Blaster got word from Sara that she had taken flight.

_Okay_, Blaster replied. _I want you to follow her, then circle overhead. This may get ugly. I will let you know if things get out of hand._

_Understood_, Sara replied, taking flight as Blaster closed that connection temporarily.

"How did you find out?" Eragon asked, his voice hollow.

Brom seemed to stare into the distance, and moved his lips soundlessly as if talking to someone else. When he was done, he replied, "There were clues and hints everywhere; I had only to pay attention. Anyone with the right knowledge could have done the same. Tell me, how is your dragon?"

"She is fine," Eragon said. "We weren't at the farm when the strangers came."

"He was flying," Blaster said. "Evidence is right there, on his legs."

Eragon seemed to blank again, but he seemed to ask "What?" Blaster knew Brom had talked to Saphira. The old man leaned against a tree with a slight smile.

"I have talked with her, and she has agreed to stay above us until we settle our differences. As you can see, you really don't have any choice but to answer my questions. Now tell me, where are you going?"

Eragon was bewildered, wondering how Brom could talk to Saphira. He eventually realized he'd have to answer sometime. "I was going to find a safe place to stay while I heal," he finally said.

"And after that?"

That question could not be ignored. Eragon seemed to be pondering what to do, then finally decided to say what he wanted to say. "I was going to hunt down the strangers and kill them."

"A mighty task for one so young," Brom said in a normal tone, almost as if that were simplest and most suitable thing to do. "Certainly a worthy endeavor and one you are fit to carry out, yet it strikes me that help would not be unwelcome." He reached for a large pack hidden behind a bush.

"Besides, Eragon," Blaster added, "I am hunting down these strangers too. They have killed an innocent, and justice must be served."

"And I'm not going to stay behind while some striplings get to run around with a couple of dragons," Brom finished.

Eragon had that bewildered look to him, trying to decide if this was a trap or not. He finally said, "I don't need help, but you can come." He added the last half of his sentence grudgingly.

"Then we best get going," Brom said. His face blanked for a moment, then he added, "I think you'll find your dragon will listen to you again." Blaster thought for a second, then decided to send Sara after Saphira. Behind them, the village happened to be busy, people running from house to house, probably in an attempt to find Eragon and Blaster. Blaster suggested they go, but Eragon hesitated.

"I'd like to leave a message for Roran," he said. "It doesn't seem right to run off without telling him why."

"Taken care of," Brom said. "I left a letter for him with Gertrude, explaining a few things. I also cautioned him to be on guard for certain dangers. Is that satisfactory?"

Eragon nodded. He wrapped the leather around the meat and started off. They stayed out of sight until they reached the road, then quickened their pace once they got there, eager to distance themselves from Carvahall. Eragon plowed ahead determinedly, legs burning from his wounds. Blaster took this time to think about what Eragon may be thinking about.

As soon as the wreckage of the farm came into view, both Blaster's and Brom's eyebrows beetled with anger. Nature was reclaiming the farm at a quick rate, with snow and dirt already piling in the house, concealing the violence of the attack. The only thing left of the barn was a rapidly eroding rectangle of soot.

Brom's head snapped up as the sound of the dragons' wings drifted over the trees. They dived past the group from behind, nearly brushing their heads. The group on the ground was buffeted by the wind generated. As the two dragons wheeled over the farm and landed gracefully, the sun seemed to glint off their scales.

Brom stepped forward with an expression both solemn and joyous. His eyes were shining, and a single tear shone on his cheek before it disappeared into his beard. Only Blaster knew why, but he couldn't say anything about that due to his oath. Brom stood there for a long while, breathing heavily as he watched Saphira and Sara. Eragon heard him muttering, and edged closer to listen.

"So…it starts again. But how and where will it end? My sight is veiled; I cannot tell if this be tragedy or farce, for the elements of both are here….However it may be, my station is unchanged, and I…"

Blaster let the man continue to rant as Sara and Saphira approached them. The two riders passed Brom and greeted their dragons. There was something different about meeting up with Sara this time for Blaster, almost like they knew each other more intimately, yet were still strangers. Blaster could sense a strong curiosity coming from Saphira, but dismissed it as she had not seen any other human except Eragon, Blaster, and Garrow, although the latter was severely injured at the time. Sara seemed to be used to this, having seen Brom unconscious. However, she was still weary.

The two dragons turned their heads so that they could inspect Brom. The old man held still as the two dragons sniffed the air. He extended his hands to them. Saphira and Sara bowed their heads and allowed him to touch their brows. With a snort, Saphira jerked back and retreated behind Eragon, her tail flicking over the ground. It took all of Sara's self control to keep from doing the same.

_I felt it,_ Sara said. _He truly is who he says he is. I will not give away his secret._ She then said a few words so that her promise was binding.

"So, what's her name?" Brom asked in an undertone while turning to Eragon.

"Saphira." A peculiar expression crossed Brom's face. Blaster knew Brom would act like this if he had told the old man the name of Eragon's dragon. Brom ground the butt of his staff into the earth with such force his knuckles turned white. "Of all the names you gave me, it was the only one she liked. I think it fits," Eragon added quickly.

"Fit it does," Brom replied. His voice was a mix of sorrow, wonder, fear, and envy.

"And this is Sara," Blaster said.

"Greetings, Saphira and Sara," Brom said. "I am honored to meet you." He twisted his hand in a strange gesture.

_I like him_, Sara said.

_Everyone enjoys flattery_, Blaster muttered. He began to watch as Eragon sifted through the remains of the house. He soon found his empty pack, part of the frame broken but easily repairable. A few seconds later, he found his bow, still in the buckskin tube and unharmed. It bent smoothly when he strung it, not creaking or snapping as he did so. However, the quiver nearby was full of many broken arrows. After a few more minutes of sifting, he emerged with a meager amount of stuff.

"Now what?" Blaster asked.

"We find a place to hide?" Eragon answered.

"Do you have somewhere in mind?" Brom asked.

"Yes." He wrapped his supplies, minus the bow, into a tight bundle and tied it shut. Hefting it onto his back, he added, "This way," and headed into the forest. Sara and Saphira took off seconds later.

Their destination wasn't too far away. It was a clearing large enough for a fire, three people, and two dragons. Brom extricated himself from one of the many vines concealing the clearing and looked around with interest. "Does anyone else know of this?"

"No. I found it when we first moved here. It took me a week to dig into the center, and another week to clear the dead wood." Sara and Saphira landed beside them, careful to avoid the thorns. They curled up, snapping twigs with their hard scales, resting their heads on the ground. Saphira's unreadable eyes followed them closely. Brom leaned against his staff and fixed his gaze on her. His scrutiny even made Blaster nervous.

Eragon soon got hungry and made some stew using a pot and filling it for snow. It simmered quietly, spreading a rich aroma through the clearing. The tip of the dragons' tongues snaked out and tasted the air. When the meat was tender, Brom and Blaster came over and Eragon served the food. They ate silently, each avoiding the other's gaze. Afterwards, Brom pulled out his pipe and lit it leisurely.

"Why do you want to travel with me?" asked Eragon.

A cloud of smoke left Brom's lips and spiraled up through the trees until it disappeared. "I have a vested interest in keeping you alive."

"What do you mean?" Eragon demanded.

"To put it bluntly, I'm a storyteller and I happen to think that you two will make a fine story. You're the first Riders to exist outside of the king's control for over a hundred years. What will happen? Will you perish as martyrs? Will you join the Varden? Or will you kill King Galbatorix? All fascinating questions. And I will be there to see every bit of it, no matter what I have to do."

Eragon looked like he had a knot in his gut. Blaster too had one, but not as big of one. He really didn't want to become a martyr, but he wouldn't mind dethroning the king. Although, he hoped Galbatorix's demise would come from Eragon as opposed to himself. He had a whole other universe he had to take care of. One that included his own friends.

"That may be," Eragon finally said, "but tell me, how can you talk with Saphira?"

Brom took his time to pack his pipe with more tobacco. One it was relit and firmly in his mouth, he said, "Very well, if it's answers you want, it's answers you'll get, but they may not be to your liking." He got up, brought his pack over to the fire, and pulled out a long object wrapped in cloth. He peeled away the cloth to reveal the red sword of Zar'roc. When the last strip had been peeled away, he handed it to Eragon.

The sword's handle fit Eragon's hand as if it had been made for him. It slid soundlessly from the sheath, and the red blade shimmered in the firelight. The keen edges curved gracefully to a sharp point. They symbol for Zar'roc was inscribed on the metal. The balance looked perfect, looking like an extension of Eragon's arm. Blaster could see the air of power that lay over it, as if an unstoppable force was held within the core. It was a weapon of war, designed to kill, yet had a terrible beauty.

"This was once a Rider's blade," Brom said, gravely. "When a Rider finished his training, the elves would present him with a sword. Their methods of forging have always remained secret. However, their swords are eternally sharp and will never stain. The custom was to have the blade's color match that of the Rider's dragon, but I think we can make an exception in this case. This sword is named Zar'roc. I don't know what it means, probably something personal to the Rider who owned it."

Eragon swung the sword, but his curiosity seemed no bounds. However, Blaster felt that this weapon was the best thing Eragon could get for being a Rider. A Rider's blade itself.

* * *

><p><strong>And so, the hunt begins. Where will it take them? What dangers will they face? And how long will they last?<strong>

**Double chapter week, here. Hope you enjoy and tune in next time for another chapter of _Free Riders._  
><strong>


	9. Ch8: The Name of the Enemy

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Thank you.

Chapter 8: The Name of the Enemy

The sword, even now, seemed to gleam like starlight. The egg-sized ruby glinted in the firelight, and the hilt's silver wire made it gleam even more. Blaster looked at the sheath and realized that it was as smooth as glass, if not made of glass that was colored like a red wine. Eragon put his hand on the handle, and it looked as if it fit his hand. He drew the sword soundlessly from its sheath. Zar'roc's iridescent red blade shimmered in the firelight, and it held an air of power over it. It was beautiful, contrary to what it was created for.

"This was once a Rider's blade," Brom said gravely. "When a Rider finished his training, the elves would present him with a sword. Their methods of forging have always remained secret. However, their swords are eternally sharp and will never stain."

"Huh," Blaster said, more to himself than anyone else. "I wonder how they get their swords to remain unstained."

"That is a secret only they know," Brom said. "Now, the custom was to have the blade's color match that of the Rider's dragon, but I think we can make an exception in this case. The sword is named Zar'roc. I don't know what it means, probably something personal to the Rider who owned it."

"Where did you get it?" Eragon asked as he swung the sword. He reluctantly returned it to its sheath and tried to give it to Brom, but he made no attempts to take it.

"It doesn't matter," Brom replied. "I will only say that it took me a series of nasty and dangerous adventures to attain it. Consider it yours, Eragon. You have more of a claim to it than I do, and before all is done, I think you will need it."

"It is a princely gift," Eragon said, caught off guard. "Thank you." He noticed the symbol. "What is this symbol?"

"The Rider's personal crest," Brom said. Eragon tried to interrupt, but Brom stared him down until he no longer protested. "Now, if you must know, anyone can learn how to speak to a dragon if they have the proper training. And," he raised a finger, "it doesn't mean anything if they can. I know more about the dragons and their abilities than almost anyone else alive. On your own it make take years to learn what I teach you. I'm offering my knowledge as a shortcut. As for how I know so much, I will keep that to myself."

Saphira moved over to Eragon. He drew the blade again for her to investigate it. She seemed to sniff at it, then touched it with her snout. The sword shimmered and the color rippled like water as it met her scales. She snorted her satisfaction, then lifted her head, causing the sword to return to its normal appearance.

"Woah," Blaster exclaimed.

"That's what I'm talking about," Brom said. "Dragons will continually amaze you. Things tend to…happen around them, mysterious things that are impossible anywhere else. Even though the Riders worked with dragons for centuries, they never completely understood their abilities. Some say that even the _dragons_ don't know the full extent of their powers. They are linked with this land in a way that lets them overcome great obstacles. What Saphira just did illustrates my previous point."

There was a long pause after that, in which time Blaster wanted to say something, but was unable to word it right. Finally, Eragon broke the silence.

"That may be," he said, "but I can learn. And the strangers are the most important thing I need to know about right now. Do you have any idea who they are?"

"They are called the Ra'zac," Brom said.

"So, they _do_ have a name," Blaster commented.

"The thing is that no one knows if that is the name for their race, or a name they gave themselves," Brom added. "Either way, if they had individual names, they are kept well hidden."

"Still, at least we have a name," Blaster said. "So what's the skinny on these guys?"

"Skinny?" Eragon questioned.

"Info," Blaster replied. "I want to know what information there is on the Ra'zac."

"Well," Brom said, "they were never seen before Galbatorix came to power. He must have found them in his travels and enlisted their service. Little to nothing is known about them. However, I can tell you this: they are not human."

"Yeah," Blaster said. "They didn't appear to be human when I caught sight of them."

"Do you know what they look like?" Eragon asked, trying to keep things on topic.

"When I glimpsed one's head," Brom said, "it appeared to have something resembling a beak, and eyeballs the size of my fist. How they managed our speech is a mystery to me. Doubtless the rest of their bodies are as twisted. Hence why they always wear cloaks, regardless of weather.

"As for their powers, they are stronger than any man, and are able to jump incredible heights, but they cannot use magic," he continued. "Be thankful for that because, otherwise, you'd already be in their grasp. I also know that they have a strong aversion to sunlight, though it won't stop them if they are determined. Don't make the mistake of underestimating the Ra'zac, for they are cunning and full of guile."

"How many of them are there?" Eragon asked. It was starting to become obvious that he was wondering how Brom knew so much.

"So far as I know, just the two you've seen," Brom replied. "There might be more, but I've never heard of them. Perhaps they are the last of a dying race. You see, they are the king's personal dragon hunters. Whenever rumors reach Galbatorix of a dragon in the land, he sends the Ra'zac to investigate. A trail of death often follows them."

Brom puffed a few rings from his pipe, and they were mostly ignored. At least, until the rings started changing colors and moving around erratically. Brom gave a sly wink. Blaster thought for a second.

"This seems unlikely," the alien said. "No one could have possibly seen Saphira or Saranya, so how is it possible that the king knew about them? It seems highly improbable, even more so for anyone from Carvahall."

"You're right," Brom said. "It seems unlikely that someone from Carvahall could have informed the king. Why don't you two tell me how you found the eggs, and how you've raised Saphira and Sara. It might clarify things."

Blaster and Eragon both recounted all the events since encountering the eggs in the Spine. Blaster left out the parts where he beamed down to the planet's surface, his weapons stash, and his contact with his ship. Brom asked few questions when hearing the two stories, but listened intently for the most part. The sun was about to set when the whole story was told. There was a long pause, before Eragon said, "I just wish I knew where they came from. Saphira doesn't remember. And I doubt Sara would either."

"I don't know," Brom said, cocking his head to the side. "You've both made many things clear to me. I'm sure no one besides us have seen Saphira and Sara. The Ra'zac must have had a source of information from outside of this valley, who is probably dead right about now." He paused for a few seconds. "You have had a hard time and done much. I'm impressed."

Eragon stared blankly into the distance, then asked, "What happened to your head? It looks like you were hit by a rock."

"Good guess, but no," Blaster said. "Mr. Storyteller here got in a little fight with the Ra'zac."

"It wasn't so much of a fight as an ambush," Brom protested. He took a puff from his pipe. "I was sneaking around the Ra'zac's camp after dark, trying to learn what I could, when they surprised me in the shadows. It was a good trap, but they underestimated me, and I managed to drive them away."

"Not without a sign of their gratitude, though," Blaster said, pointing at Brom's head. "By the time I got to you, you were already out, and you didn't wake back up for another several hours. And it was by then that they had already reached your farm, Eragon. We knew it would be a bit too late to stop them, but we proceeded anyway. And that's where we met you on the road." Eragon thought, which gave Blaster time to voice his opinions. "It was rather stupid of you to try and fight off the Ra'zac singlehandedly. And at _night_ of all times, when they aren't afraid of attacking out in the open."

Brom nodded, but Eragon spoke again before the storyteller could.

"When you saw the mark, the gedwëy ignasia, on my palm, why didn't you tell me who the Ra'zac were?" Eragon demanded. "I would have warned Garrow instead of going to Saphira first, and the three of us could have fled."

"I was unsure of what to do at the time," Brom sighed. "I thought I could keep the Ra'zac away from you and, once they had left, confront you about Saphira, and confront Blaster about Sara. But they outsmarted me. And it's a mistake I deeply regret, and one that has cost you dearly."

"Who are you?" Eragon demanded, suddenly bitter. "How come a mere village storyteller happens to have a Rider's sword? How do you know about the Ra'zac?"

"Eragon, settle down," Blaster said, attempting to calm the boy down. He, however turned his attention to the alien.

"And for that matter, who are you?" Eragon demanded. "How come you show up just before the eggs do? Where do you come from anyway?"

"I told you, from the north," Blaster said. "I will not delve any further into what I know, and I believe Brom has already said that he's not divulging how he came across that much info either."

"My uncle is dead because of this. _Dead!_" Eragon exclaimed. "I've trusted you two this far because Saphira respects you, and Blaster's got Sara, but no more! You're not the person I've known in Carvahall for all these years, Brom. And you are not from the north, Blaster. Explain yourselves!"

"I need not explain myself," Blaster replied. "I am from a place far away, and that is all I can tell you."

Brom thought for a moment, then said, "You've probably never thought about it, but most of my life has been spent outside of Palancar Valley. It was only in Carvahall that I took up the mantle of storyteller. I have played many roles to different people. You could say I've got a complicated past. It was partly through a desire to escape it that I came here. So no, I am not the man you think I am."

"Then who are you?" Eragon demanded.

"I am one who is here to help you," Brom said with a smile. "Do not scorn those words, for they are the truest I've ever spoken. But I am not going to answer your questions. At this point you don't need to hear my history, nor have you earned that right. Yes, I have knowledge Brom the storyteller wouldn't, but I'm more than he. You'll have to learn to live with that fact and the fact that I don't hand out descriptions of my life to anyone who asks!"

It was tense for a minute, then Eragon stated, "I'm going to bed." He promptly left the fire and went to sleep by Saphira.

"I'll take the night watch," Blaster said. He could feel the sorrow coming from Brom, but never said a word as he fell asleep.

Next morning, after breakfast, Eragon removed his stolen leather and spread it on the ground.

"I may be strong, but there is no way we can carry all that with us," Blaster said.

"I'm going to make a saddle for Saphira," Eragon replied. "Maybe you should make one for Sara. I think there may be enough."

"Well, there are two kinds of saddles," Brom said. "One was molded for comfort, like a horse's saddle, but those take time and tools to make, which we don't have. The other was thin, lightly padded, and flexible. It was merely an extra layer between the Rider and dragon. They were used for speed and mobility, but weren't as comfortable."

"And you've seen one?" Blaster asked.

"Better," Brom replied, smiling. "I can make one."

"Then please do," Eragon said while backing away.

"Very well, but pay attention," Brom said. "One day you may have to do this yourself."

Once he got permission from the dragons, Brom went to work, measuring their chests and necks. He cut bands, then outlined about two dozen shapes on the hides. After the shapes had been cut, he sliced what remained into long cords, which he used to sew together. For each stitch, two holes had to be bored through the leather. He made intricate knots in place of buckles, and straps were made extra long so the saddles would still fit in the coming months.

The saddle itself was made of three identical pieces sewn together with padding inbetween. A loop on the front attached to one of the many neck spikes, and wide bands would wrap around the belly. A series of loops took the place of stirrups down the bands, each able to tighten to hold the Rider's legs in place. A strap was designed to go between the front legs and back to the saddle behind them. After a few adjustments, Brom was satisfied with the two saddles.

"Nice," Blaster said, writing down the last of the instructions and diagrams in a small notebook he had.

"One strives to do his best," Brom replied, joyously. "It should serve you well; the leather's sturdy enough."

_Will you try it out?_ Sara asked.

_Not yet_, Blaster replied. _I want to make a checklist of things I should check before we take flight together. It's so that I am a bit safer._

"Will we leave tomorrow," Brom asked at dinner about an hour later.

"There isn't any reason to stay," Eragon replied.

"I suppose not…" Brom said. He shifted a bit. "Eragon, I must apologize about how events have turned out. I never wished for this to happen. Your family did not deserve such a tragedy. If there were anything I would do to revere it, I would. This is a terrible situation for all of us." He paused for a moment, then said, "We're going to need horses."

"I don't know about you, but we have Saphira and Sara," Eragon said. Brom shook his head.

"There isn't a horse alive that can outrun a flying dragon," Brom said. "But Saphira and Sara are too young to carry all three of us. Besides, it'll be safer if we were to stay together, and riding is faster than walking."

"But that'll make it harder to catch the Ra'zac," Eragon protested. "On Saphira and Sara, we'd probably catch them in a day or two. On horses, it'll take longer. That is, if it is even possible to overtake their lead on the ground."

Brom spoke slowly. "That's a chance you'll have to take if I'm to accompany you."

"I'm in," Blaster said. Eragon thought it over.

"Alright," he finally said. "But you'll have to buy the horses. I don't have any money, and I don't want to steal again. It's wrong."

"That depends on your point of view," Brom said with a slight smile. "Before you set out on this venture, remember that your enemies, the Ra'zac, are the king's servants. They will be protected wherever they go. Laws do not stop them."

"Might slow them down a bit," Blaster said. Brom shook his head.

"Even then, they would be protected," Brom said. "In cities, they'll have access to abundant resources and willing servants. Also keep in mind that nothing is more important to Galbatorix than recruiting or killing you—though word of your existence probably hasn't reached him yet. The longer you evade the Ra'zac, the more desperate he'll become. He'll know that every day you'll be growing stronger and each passing moment will give you another chance to join his enemies. You must be very careful, as you may easily turn from the hunter to the hunted." There was a silence between them as the two young Riders mulled his words in their thoughts. Finally, he said, "Enough talk. It's late and my bones ache. We can say more tomorrow."

Eragon nodded and banked the fire, while Blaster sat down to take the overnight watch again.

* * *

><p><strong>They have their initial heading. They have their determination. They just need horses. What happens next? Stay tuned for another episode of <em>Free Riders.<em>**


	10. Ch9: To Therinsford

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Thank you.

Chapter 9: To Therinsford

Dawn was grey and overcast with a cutting wind. The forest was quiet. After a light breakfast, Brom, Eragon, and Blaster doused the fire and shouldered their packs, preparing to leave. Eragon hung his bow and quiver on the side of his pack where he could easily reach them. Saphira and Sara wore the saddles, needing to carry them until they had gotten horses. Eragon carefully tied Zar'roc onto Saphira's back as well, as he didn't want the extra weight. Besides, the sword would be no better than a club in such inexperienced hands.

Blaster, for the first time, pulled out his pistols and holstered them near his belt, followed by his bow, also hung within his reach on the side of his pack. For the first time, Blaster felt safe in the bramble. Outside, he felt like Eragon, weary and nervous about the future. Sara and Saphira took off and circled overhead. The trees thinned as they returned to the destroyed farm.

_They will pay_, Blaster said to himself, looking at the remains. _Blood was spilt here, and their protection under the king will come to an end. No one should be allowed to kill without consequence._ He hefted his pack, but buttoned his pistols before looking towards the unknown south.

As they walked, Saphira and Sara veered west toward the mountains and out of sight. Even with his mind training, Blaster felt a little uncomfortable watching them go, but knew it was for the best at the moment. They had to stay hidden in case they met a fellow traveler, and they didn't want to have Galbatorix know that two new dragons were running free under his rule.

The Ra'zac's footprints were faint on the eroding snow, but neither Blaster nor Eragon was concerned. It was unlikely that they would forsake the road, the easiest way into and out of the valley, for the wilderness. Once outside the valley, however, the road divided in several places, making it difficult to ascertain which branch the Ra'zac had taken.

They traveled in silence, concentrating on speed. Eragon's legs continued to bleed where the scabs had cracked, even with Blaster's bandages pressed tight against the wounds. To take his mind off the discomfort, he asked, "So what exactly can dragons do? You said that you knew something of their abilities."

Brom laughed, his sapphire ring flashing in the air as he gestured. "Unfortunately, it's a pitiful amount compared to what I would like to know. Your question is one people have been trying to answer for centuries, so understand that what I tell you is by its very nature incomplete. Dragons have always been mysterious, though maybe not on purpose.

"Before I can truly answer your question, you need a basic education on the subject of dragons. It's hopelessly confusing to start in the middle of such a complex topic without understanding the foundation on which it stands."

"Like trying to do complex math before learning to add or subtract," Blaster suggested. Brom nodded.

"I'll begin with the life cycle of dragons, and if that doesn't wear you out, we can continue on another topic." Brom explained how dragons mate and what it took for their eggs to hatch. "You see," he said, "when a dragon lays an egg, the infant inside is ready to hatch. But it waits, sometimes for years, for the right circumstances. When dragons lived in the wild, those circumstances were usually dictated by the availability of food." Blaster muttered something about basic supply and demand, but earned a stern glare from Brom and let the matter be. "However," Brom continued, "once they formed an alliance with the elves, a certain number of their eggs, usually no more than one or two, were given to the Riders each year. These eggs, or rather the infants inside, wouldn't hatch until the person destined to be its Rider came into their presence—though how they sensed that isn't known. People used to line up to touch the eggs, hoping that one of them might be picked."

"Do you mean that Saphira might not have hatched for me?" Eragon asked.

"Quite possibly, if she hadn't liked you," Brom replied, smugly.

Blaster and Eragon somehow felt honored that the dragons they now possessed had chosen them. They wondered how long their dragons had been waiting. However, Eragon was the only one who shuddered at the thought of being cramped inside an egg, surrounded on all sides by darkness.

Brom continued his lecture. He explained what and when dragons ate. A fully grown sedentary dragon could go for months without food, but had to eat every week once mating season hit. Some plants could heal their sicknesses, while others would make them ill. Additionally, there were various ways to care for their claws and clean their scales.

Brom then explained the techniques to use when attacking from a dragon and what to do if one was fighting one, whether on foot, horseback, or with another dragon. Their bellies were armored, but not the armpits. Eragon constantly interrupted to ask questions, and Brom seemed pleased by the inquiries. However, when Blaster interrupted to make an analogy, he seemed upset with the interjections. Hours passed as they talked.

When evening came, they were near Therinsford. As the sky darkened and they searched for a place to camp, Eragon asked, "Who was the Rider that owned Zar'roc?"

"A mighty warrior," Brom said. "One who was much feared in his time and held great power."

"Pretty inspirational guy," Blaster commented, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. "What was his name?"

"I'll not say." Eragon began to protest, but Brom was firm. "I don't want to keep you ignorant, far from it, but certain knowledge would only prove dangerous and distracting for you now. There isn't any reason for me to trouble you with such things until you have the time and the power to deal with them. I only wish to protect you from those who would use you for evil."

Eragon glared at Brom. "You know what? I think you just enjoy speaking in riddles. I've half a mind to leave you so I don't have to be bothered with them. If you're going to say something, then say it instead of dancing around with vague phrases!"

"Peace. All will be told in time," Brom said gently. Eragon grunted, unconvinced.

"I can wait," Blaster muttered. As they continued, Blaster lagged behind and pulled out a small communicator from his sleeve. Once it was in his ear, he called for his ship.

"Alice here," the computer replied. "I thought you'd never call back."

"Bit of an issue," Blaster said. "I might have to reveal my secret about you sooner or later, so, could you possibly look up how to block off parts of my mind temporarily without thinking about it?"

"Give me a bit," Alice replied. "I will need to search the database while trying to get through the interference. I still haven't been able to pinpoint Char due to the changing interference pattern. Even with you talking to me, I can't get a solid lock on the teleporter."

"So, something else is blocking the signal," Blaster mused. He shook himself before adding, "Thanks for the update. I'll chat again on the other side of Therinsford."

"Understood, Alice out!"

Blaster quickly took out his communicator and caught up with the rest of the group. He got there just as the meal was being set on the fire, along with Saphira and Sara.

_Man you are slow_, Sara said. _If the three of you walked any slower, Saphira and I would be able to fly across the sea and back without falling behind._

_I'm faster than I look_, Blaster replied. _Besides, we'll be faster on horseback._

_ Maybe,_ Sara replied, letting loose a puff of smoke. _But will it be enough to catch the Ra'zac? They have a lead of several days and many leagues. And I'm afraid they may suspect we're following them. Why else would they have destroyed that farm in such a spectacular manner, unless they wished to provoke you or Eragon into chasing them?_

_I dunno_, Blaster replied. Sara curled up beside him and he leaned against her belly. It was an odd feeling having something so warm as a makeshift pillow, albeit temporarily. Brom sat on the other side of the fire from Eragon, whittling two long sticks. He suddenly threw one at Eragon, who grabbed it out of reflex as it whirled over the cracking flames.

"Defend yourself!" Brom barked, standing up.

"Oh, this'll be good," Blaster muttered.

Eragon looked at the stick and saw it resembled a crude sword. He reluctantly stood up, possibly wondering if fighting against an old man was a good idea. Brom circled the fire as Eragon rose. They faced each other for a moment before Brom charged, swinging his stick. Eragon tried to block the attack, but was a little slow on the up-take. He yelped as Brom's attack struck him on the ribs, causing him to stumble backwards.

Without thinking, Eragon launched forward, but Brom easily parried the blow. Eragon whipped the stick toward Brom's head, but twisted it at the last second, and then tried to hit his side. The smacking sound of wood connecting with wood resounded in the camp. "Improvisation—good!" Brom exclaimed, eyes gleaming. His arm moved in a blur as he swung and struck Eragon in the head. The boy collapsed, obviously dazed.

"Go a little overboard?" Blaster asked, a smile on his face. Brom shook his head as he began to melt snow in a small kettle. "Honestly, I think he did good for his first time."

"Me too," Brom said.

Moments later, the small amount of snow was melted and thrown on Eragon. He sat up, sputtering, dried blood on his face. "You didn't have to do that," he said angrily, pushing himself up. He swayed a bit. Brom arched an eyebrow.

"Oh?" he exclaimed. "A real enemy wouldn't soften his blows, and neither will I. Should I pander to your…incompetence so you'll feel better? I don't think so." He picked up the stick that Eragon had dropped and held it out. "Now, defend yourself."

Eragon stared blankly at the piece of wood, then shook his head. "Forget it; I've had enough." He turned away and stumbled as his was whacked loudly across the back. He spun around, growling.

"Never turn your back to the enemy," Brom snapped, then tossed the stick at Eragon and attacked. Eragon retreated around the fire, beneath the onslaught. "Pull your arms in. Keep your knees bent," Brom shouted. He continued to give instructions, then paused to show Eragon exactly how to execute a certain move. "Do it again, but this time _slowly_!" They slid through the forms with exaggerated motions before returning to their furious battle. Eragon learned quickly, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't hold Brom off for more than a few blows.

When they had finished, Eragon flopped on his blankets and groaned. There were small welts everywhere as Brom had not been gentle. Both Saphira and Sara let out a long, coughing growl and they curled their lips until a formidable row of teeth showed. Blaster knew instantly what was going on.

_May I ask what's so funny?_ Blaster asked. It didn't take him long to realize the dragons were laughing.

_Nothing,_ Sara replied. _It's just amusing to see a hatchling like Eragon beaten by the old one._ She and Saphira laughed again, causing Eragon to blush before rolling to his side and falling asleep.

The next day, Eragon awoke to find bruises covering his arms, and he was almost too sore to move. Brom looked up from the mush he was serving and grinned. "How do you feel?" Eragon merely grunted and bolted down his breakfast.

Once on the road, they traveled swiftly so as to reach Therinsford before noon. After a league, the road widened and they saw smoke in the distance. "You'd better tell Saphira and Sara to fly ahead and wait for us on the other side of Therinsford," Brom said. "They have to be careful here, otherwise people are bound to notice them."

"Why don't you tell her yourself?" Eragon challenged.

"It's considered bad manners to interfere with another's dragon."

"You didn't have a problem with it in Carvahall."

Brom's lips twitched with a smile. "I did what I had to."

Eragon eyed him darkly, but both Blaster and Eragon told their dragons the instructions. _Be careful_, Sara replied. _The Empire's servants could be hiding anywhere._

_I'm well aware_, Blaster replied.

As the ruts in the road deepened, Eragon noticed more footprints. Farms signaled their approach to Therinsford. The village was larger than Carvahall, but it had been constructed haphazardly, the houses aligned in no particular order.

"What a mess," Eragon said. Blaster thought about Roran, but he thought it wouldn't be wise to seek him out.

"It's ugly, if nothing else," Brom agreed.

The Anora River flowed between them and the town, spanned by a stout bridge. As they approached, a greasy man stepped from behind a bush and barred their way. His shirt was too short, and his dirty stomach spilled over a rope belt. His teeth looked like crumbling tombstones behind his cracked lips. "You c'n stop right there. This's my bridge. Gotta pay t' get over."

"How much?" Brom asked in a resigned voice. He pulled out a pouch, and the bridgekeeper brightened.

"Five crowns," he said, pulling his lips into a broad smile. Eragon's temper flared at the exorbitant price, and he started to complain hotly, but Brom silenced him with a quick look. The coins were wordlessly handed over. The man put them into a sack hanging from his belt. "Thank'ee much," he said in a mocking tone, and stood out of the way.

Blaster stepped forward, but stumbled a bit and caught the bridgekeeper's arm for support. "Watch y're step," the grimy man snarled, sidling away.

"Pardon me, sir," Blaster apologized. The three continued over the bridge.

"Why didn't you haggle? He skinned you alive!" Eragon exclaimed once they were out of earshot. "He probably doesn't even own the bridge. We could have pushed right past him."

"Probably," Brom agreed.

"Then why pay him?"

"Because," Blaster said, "you can't argue with all of the fools in the world. It's much easier to let them have their way, then trick them when they're not paying attention." Blaster opened his hand, revealing a pile of coins that glinted in the light.

"You stole those!" Eragon exclaimed, incredulous. Blaster handed the money over to Brom, who pocketed it with a wink.

"Anyone who has the nerve to rob innocent travelers for a living ought to know better than to carry large sums of money on his person," Blaster said with a smile. "Now, let's get out of here before our greedy little friend here realizes _we_ robbed _him_ blind. If you happen to see any watchmen wandering around, let Brom or I know."

Brom caught the shoulder of a young boy running between the houses and asked, "Do you know where we can buy horses?" The child stared at them with solemn eyes and then pointed to a large barn near the edge of Therinsford. "Thank you," Brom said, tossing him half a coin. They then set off to the barn.

* * *

><p><strong>Time to buy the horses. Still chasing the Ra'zac. New development: None as of yet, but, as soon as that happens, you'll be one of the first to know. Tune in next week for another installment of <em>Free Riders.<em>**

(Author's top tip: Neither myself nor my characters support the act of stealing. Unless it is in a fictional story and relevant to the plot.)

**Please read and review. Note that if there are any flame reviews, they will be fed to Saranya.**


	11. Ch10: Follow The Trail

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Thank you.

Chapter 10: Follow the Trail

The barn's large double doors were open, revealing two long rows of stalls. The far wall was literally covered with saddles, harnesses, other tack, and other paraphernalia. A man with muscular arms stood at the end, brushing a white stallion. He raised a hand and beckoned for them to approach.

As they approached, Brom said, "That's a beautiful animal."

"Yes indeed. His name's Snowfire. Mine's Haberth." Haberth offered a rough palm and shook hand vigorously with Eragon, Blaster, and Brom. There was a polite pause as he waited for their names in return. When they were not forthcoming, he asked, "Can I help you?"

Brom nodded. "We need three horses and a full set of tack for all. The horses have to be fast and tough; we'll be doing a lot of traveling."

Haberth was thoughtful for a moment. "I don't have many animals like that, and the ones I do aren't cheap." The stallion moved restlessly; he calmed it down with a few strokes of his fingers.

"Price is no object. I'll take the best you have," Brom said. Haberth nodded and silently tied the stallion to a stall. He went to the wall and started pulling down saddles and other items. Soon he had three identical piles. Next he walked up the line of stalls and brought out three horses. One was a light bay, the second a roan, the third a chestnut. The bay tugged against his rope.

"He's a little spirited, but with a firm hand you won't have any problems," Haberth said, handing the bay's rope to Brom. Brom let the horse smell his hand; it allowed him to rub its neck. The chestnut allowed Blaster to get close to it and let him rub its neck as well. Blaster entered the mind of the horse, not as clear as his connection to Sara, but he could still communicate with the chestnut. He told it that he was a friend and that he would not harm it.

"We'll take these two," Brom said. He then eyed the roan. "This one, however, I'm not so sure of."

"There are some good legs on him."

"Hmm…" Brom pondered for a second before asking, "What will you take for Snowfire?"

Haberth looked fondly at the stallion. "I'd rather not sell him. He's the finest I've ever bred—I'm hoping to sire a whole line from him."

"If you were willing to part with him, how much would all of this cost me?" Brom asked.

Eragon tried to put his hand on the bay like Brom had, but it shied away. Seconds later, after touching the bay's mind, he was able to calm the horse down. Meanwhile, Haberth used his fingers to add up the price of the purchase.

"Two hundred seventy crowns and no less," he said with a smile, clearly confident that no one would pay that much. Brom silently opened his pouch and counted out the money.

"Will this do?" he asked.

There was a long silence as Haberth glanced between Snowfire and the coins. He sighed, then said, reluctantly, "He is yours, though I go against my heart."

"I will treat him as if he had been sired by Gildintor, the greatest steed of legend," Brom said.

"Your words gladden me," Haberth answered, bowing his head slightly. He helped saddle the horses. When they were ready to leave, he said, "Farewell, then. For the sake of Snowfire, I hope that misfortune does not befall you."

"Do not fear; I will guard him well," Brom promised as they departed. "Here," he said to Eragon, handing Snowfire's reigns to him, "go to the far side of Therinsford and wait there with Blaster."

"Wait, what?" Blaster asked, taking the chestnut's reigns.

"Why?" Eragon asked. However, before either of them could finish asking their questions, Brom had already slipped away. Annoyed, they exited Therinsford with the three horses and stationed themselves beside the road. To the south, they saw the hazy outline of Utgard, sitting like a giant monolith at the end of the valley. Its peak was obscured by the clouds, towering over the lesser mountains surrounding it. Its dark, ominous look made even Blaster's scalp tingle.

Brom returned shortly and gestured for them to follow. They walked until Therinsford was hidden by trees. Then Brom said, "The Ra'zac definitely passed this way. Apparently they stopped here to pick up horses, as we did. I was able to find a man who saw them. He described them with many shudders and said that they galloped out of Therinsford like demons fleeing from a holy man."

"I guess they left quite the impression," Blaster commented.

"Quite."

Eragon patted the horses. "When we were in the barn, I touched the bay's mind by accident. I didn't know it was possible to do that."

Brom frowned. "It's unusual for one as young as you to have the ability. Most Riders had to train for years before they were strong enough to contact anything other than their dragon." His face was thoughtful as he inspected Snowfire. Then he said, "Take everything from your packs, put them into the saddlebags, and tie the packs on top." Eragon did so, but Blaster did not. He would wait until night had fallen and the other two had fallen asleep to put his weaponry from his pack into the saddlebags. Brom and Blaster then mounted their steeds, Blaster climbing onto the chestnut.

Eragon gazed doubtfully at the bay. It was smaller than both Saphira and Sara, and for a moment, Blaster thought Eragon wouldn't get on because he feared it wouldn't be able to bear his weight. With a sigh, he climbed awkwardly into the saddle. He became nervous and asked, "Is this going to do the same thing to my legs as riding Saphira?"

"How do they feel now?" Brom asked.

"Not too bad, but I think any hard riding will open them up again."

"Then we'll take 'er easy," Blaster promised. Brom gave Eragon a few pointers, then they started off at a gentle pace. Before long, the countryside began to change as the cultivated fields yielded to wider land. Brambles and tangled weeds lined the road, as well as huge rosebushes that clung to their clothes. Tall rocks slanted out of the ground—grey witness to their presence. There was an unfriendly feel in the air, and animosity that resisted intruders.

Above them, growing larger with every step, loomed Utgard, its craggy precipices deeply furrowed with snowy canyons. The black rock of the mountain absorbed light like a sponge and dimmed the surrounding area. Between Utgard and the line of mountains that formed the east side of Palancar Valley was a deep cleft, the only practical way out of the valley. The road led toward it.

The horses' hooves clacked sharply over gravel, and the road dwindled to a skinny trail as it skirted the base of Utgard. Both Eragon and Blaster glanced up at the peak looming over them. They were startled to see a steepled tower perched upon it. The turret was crumbling and in a state of disrepair, but it was still a stern sentinel over the valley. "What is that?" Eragon asked.

Brom didn't look up, but said sadly and with bitterness, "An outpost of the Riders—one that has lasted since their founding. That was where Varel took refuge, and where, through treachery, he was found and defeated by Galbatorix. When Vrael fell, this area was tainted. Edoc'sil, 'Unconquerable,' was the name of this bastion, for the mountain is so steep none may reach the top unless they can fly. After Vrael's death the commoners called it Utgard, but it has another name Ristvak'baen—the 'Place of Sorrow.' It was known as such to the last Riders before they were killed by the king."

Eragon and Blaster both stared at it with awe. Here was a tangible remnant of the Riders' glory, tarnished by the unstoppable force of time. It struck them then just how old the Riders were. A legacy of tradition and heroism that stretched back to antiquity had fallen upon them.

They traveled for long hours around Utgard. It formed a solid wall to their right as they entered the breach that divided the mountain range. Eragon stood on his stirrups; he was impatient to see what lay outside of Palancar, but it was still too far away. For a while they were in a sloped pass, winding over hill and gully, following the Anora River. Then with the sun low behind their backs, they mounted a rise and saw over the trees.

Eragon gasped. On either side were mountains, but below them stretched an enormous plain that extended to the distant horizon and fused into the sky. The plain was a uniform tan, like the color of dead grass. Long, wispy clouds swept by overhead, shaped by fierce winds. Blaster wondered how nasty the weather would be on these plains.

The two younger travelers now understood why Brom had insisted on horses. It would have taken them weeks to months to cover that vast distance on foot. Far above, they say Saphira and Sara circling each other, high enough to be mistaken for birds.

"We'll wait until tomorrow to make the descent," Brom said. "It's going to take most of the day, so we should camp now."

"How far across the plain?" Eragon asked, still amazed.

"Two or three days to over a fortnight, depending on which direction we go," Brom replied. "Aside from the nomad tribes that roam this section of the pains, it's almost as uninhabited as the Hadarac Desert to the east. So we aren't going to find many villages. However, to the south the plains are less arid and more heavily populated."

They left the trail and dismounted by the Anora River. As they unsaddled the horses, Brom gestured to the bay and the chestnut. "You should name them."

Eragon considered it as he picketed the bay. "Well, I don't have anything as noble as Snowfire, but maybe this will do." He placed a hand on the bay and said, "I name you Cadoc. It was my grandfather's name, so bear it well." Brom nodded in approval, but Eragon felt slightly foolish.

"And I shall name him Samson," Blaster said, placing his hand on the chestnut. "A man of great strength." Seconds later, Saphira and Sara landed. Blaster took one look at Sara and asked, _How's it look?_

_Dull. There's nothing but rabbits and scrub in every direction._

After dinner, Brom stood and barked, "Catch!" Eragon barely had time to raise his arm and grab the piece of wood before it hit him on the head. He groaned as he saw another makeshift sword.

"Not again," he complained. Blaster, however, smirked as he laid back. Brom just smiled and beckoned with one hand. Eragon reluctantly got to his feet. They whirled around in a flurry of smacking wood, and he backed away with a stinging arm. The training session wasn't as long as the first, but it was still long enough for Eragon to accumulate a new collection of bruises. When they finished sparring, he threw down the stick in disgust and stalked away to nurse his injuries.

"Be glad he's using a wooden stick instead of the steel of a sword," Blaster said as Eragon stalked away.

Once everyone was asleep, Blaster unzipped his pack. From it he pulled out all his weapons. One by one, he placed the guns he could fit into the saddle bags into it. After making sure everything was in order, he thrust the AK-47 and the revolver into the saddle bags. The sniper rifle and shotgun remained in the pack, but in places where he could easily pull them out if he needed to. Once all his bags were packed, he heard a beeping coming from his wristband. He pulled out his mini communicator and placed it in his ear.

"Blaster," the alien said into the communicator.

"It's Alice," his ship's computer said. "I found out how to block off sections of your memory without getting rid of it all together. You will still be able to access it, but others won't be able to."

"Great, lemmie hear it," Blaster said.

For the next half hour, Blaster started muttering words in a language that no one but himself knew what those words meant. As he continued to speak, invisible forces started putting up an iron curtain over the memories he wanted hidden from others. Another part of his brain started making up moments of his life to compensate for the hidden memories. As the fire began to die down, he stopped speaking and solidified his new "memories" and the barrier that prevented others from seeing what he truly was.

He disappeared into the forest a few minutes later, drawing his sword as he went. Once he was in a clearing big enough, he started swinging his sword as if he were under attack. Stab at one enemy, then swing around to parry an invisible blow. His sword glinted in the moonlight as Blaster used it again and again to cut down imaginary foes. He gained a familiarity with this weapon for about an hour. Then, he began to use his "magic."

He tossed his sword into his left hand and thrust his right forward. A fireball the size of a baseball erupted from his palm. It struck a tree and lit it on fire. Another flick of his wrist and lightning struck another tree, causing it to burst into flames. He lowered his arm, then raised it again, almost as if he was lifting an invisible weight. Spikes erupted from the ground of solid earth. Another wave of his hand and the spikes toppled over from a gust of wind. The fires were starting to get out of hand, so he thrust his hand out again and a jet of water extinguished the fires.

The sun was beginning to rise when Blaster relaxed and sheathed his sword. Using his powers again, he returned the earth to the way it was, then left the clearing, the two trees still smoldering.

* * *

><p><strong>What will happen along the road? Will Blaster be forced to use his powers again? Should I think about having only two questions instead of three here? All questions will be answered next as a special, double-chapter continues in <em>Free Riders.<em>**

**Please R&R. No Flames. Sorry for delay.**


	12. Ch11: Storms

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Thank you.

Chapter 11: Storms

Blaster thought that morning as Eragon got up. There were things that had to be taken care of, and one of them was trying to figure out how to take care of the Ra'zac. Eragon thought to use his bow, but Blaster thought he'd take care of the other one by using his pistol. The thought of having one Ra'zac with arrows sticking out of them, the other riddled with bullet holes was amusing to say the least.

Eragon had some difficulty getting up that morning. His muscles seemed to cramp with the slightest movement, and one of his fingers was swollen. When they were ready to leave, he mounted Cadoc and said acidly, "If this keeps up, you're going to batter me to pieces."

"He wouldn't push you so hard if he didn't think you were strong enough," Blaster said, mounting Samson.

"For once, I wouldn't mind being thought less of," Eragon muttered.

Cadoc and Samson pranced nervously as Saphira and Sara approached. They each eyed the horsed with something close to disgust. Saphira spoke to both of them, saying, _There's nowhere to hide on the plains, so we're not going to bother trying to stay out of sight. We'll just fly above you from now on._

They took off, and the other group began the steep descent. In many places the trail all but disappeared, leaving them to find their own way down. At times they had to dismount and lead the horses on food, holding on to trees to keep from falling down the slope. The ground was scattered with loose rocks, making the footing treacherous. The ordeal left them hot and irritable for the most part, despite the cold.

They stopped to rest when they reached the bottom near midday. The Anora River veered to their left and flowed northward. A biting wind scoured the land, whipping them unmercifully. The soil was parched, and dirt flew into their eyes. It unnerved Eragon how flat everything was; the plains were unbroken by hummocks or mounds. He had lived his entire life so far surrounded by mountains and hills. Without them, he felt exposed. Brom and Blaster were used to it.

The trail split in three once it reached the plains. One branch turned north to the city of Ceunon, one of the greatest northern cities. The second went straight into the plains, while the third led to the south. They examined all three for traces of the Ra'zac and eventually found their tracks, heading directly into the grasslands.

"It seems they've gone to Yazuac," Brom said with a perplexed air.

"Where's that?" Eragon asked.

"Due east and four days away, if all goes well," Brom replied. "It's a small village situated by the Ninor River." He gestured to the Anora, which bent to the north, away from them. "Our only supply of water is here. We'll have to replenish our waterskins before attempting to cross the plains. There isn't another pool or stream between here and Yazuac."

_Finally_, Blaster thought. _We have a destination. Another week and one of those damn Ra'zac will be riddled with bullet holes. Then…_ He didn't want to think about what would happen afterwards. He still had to find Char.

They filled the waterskins, watered the horses, and drank as much as they could from the river. Blaster filled an extra military canteen he had hidden in his saddlebags, right underneath his AK. The dragons joined them and took several gulps of water each. Fortified, they turned eastward and started across the plains.

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

Eragon seemed to be miserable, and it didn't take long to figure out why. His lips were chapped, tongue parched, and his eyes burned. The ceaseless gusting followed them throughout the day. The evening only strengthened the wind, instead of subduing it.

Since there was no shelter, they were forced to camp in the open. Eragon found some scrub brush, a short tough plant that thrived on these harsh conditions, and pulled it up. He made a careful pile and tied to light it, but the woody stems only smoked and gave off a pungent smell. Frustrated, he tossed the tinderbox to Blaster. "I can't make it burn, especially with this blasted wind. See if you can get it going: otherwise dinner will be cold."

"Okay," Blaster said. He reorganized the brush, then struck the tinderbox. The cascade of sparks landed on the plants, but there was nothing but smoke. He tried again, but couldn't figure out why it wasn't lighting. "Okay, Brom. Let's see if you have more luck."

It was just as bad as the other two attempts. No matter how hard he tried, Brom couldn't get the brush lit. Finally, he swore, "Brisingr!" as he struck the flint one last time. Flames suddenly appeared, and he stepped back with a pleased expression. "There we go. It must have been smoldering inside."

He and Eragon sparred with mock swords while the food cooked. Fatigue made it hard on the both of them, to they kept the session short. After they had eaten, they lay next to Saphira and Sara, glad for their shelter.

The same cold wind greeted them in the morning, sweeping over the dreadful flames. Eragon's lips cracked during the night, and every time he smiled or talked, beads of blood covered them. Licking them only made it worse. Brom and Blaster were in the same boat. They let the horses drink sparingly from their water supply before mounting them. The day was a monotonous trek of endless plodding.

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

By the third day, everyone woke well rested. That, coupled with the fact that the wind had stopped and Eragon was in a cheery mood. That changed when he saw the sky ahead of them was dark with thunderheads. Brom too looked at the clouds and grimaced.

"Normally I wouldn't go into a storm like that, but we're in for a battering no matter what we do, so we might as well get some distance covered."

It was still calm when they reached the storm front. As they entered its shadow, Eragon looked up and Blaster pulled out a strange device with a fan on top. The thundercloud had an exotic structure, forming a natural cathedral with a massive arched roof. With some imagination, they could see pillars, windows, soaring tiers, and snarling gargoyles. It was a wild beauty. However, Blaster was starting to get worried due to the green hue of the clouds.

"Just so you know, if either of you two see any rotation in the clouds, tell me as soon as you can," the alien said. "I've seen storms like this, and I don't want to be underneath a rotating supercell just in case it drops…" He saw a giant ripple racing towards them through the grass, flattening it. It didn't take long to figure out what it was. "Gust front!" Brom saw it too and they all hunched their shoulders, preparing for the storm.

A nasty thought came to Blaster. The dragons weren't suited for this weather, so Blaster twisted in his saddle and shouted, both verbally and mentally, _"SARANYA, LAND! NOW!"_ He sent her an image of a jet landing in a strong headwind and the possibility for something like that to slam into the ground. Eragon had yelled at Saphira the same way. Overhead, they saw the two dragons dive toward the ground. _They're not gonna make it!_

The dragons angled back they way they had come to gain some time. As they watched, the gust front struck them like a hammer blow. Blaster's device recorded the gust at well over fifty-five miles an hour. Eragon gasped for breath and clenched the saddle. The horses dug their hooves into the ground, manes snapping in the wind. The wind tore at their clothes with invisible fingers as the air darkened with billowing clouds of dust kicked up by the wind.

Blaster squinted, searching for the dragons. He saw them land heavily and crouch, talons dug into the ground. Before they could fold their wings properly, the front reached them. The gust unfurled them and dragged the dragons into the air. They hung in the air for a moment, then slammed down on their backs.

Eragon yanked Cadoc around almost as fast as Blaster did for Samson. The two galloped back up the trail, goading their horses with both heels and mind. _I'm on my way, Sara,_ Blaster shouted to his dragon. _Try to stay as low to the ground as you can and try not to get any wind under your wings._ He felt a grim acknowledgement from her. As they neared the dragons, the horses balked, so Blaster and Eragon continued on foot.

Eragon's bow banged against his head. Blaster could feel his own weapons rattling inside his pack, but he couldn't do anything about it. A strong gust of wind pushed the two of them off balance, but Blaster was able to regain what he lost while Eragon flew forward, landing on his chest. He skidded, then got back up with a snarl, ignoring the deep scrapes in his skin.

When they were within three yards of their dragons, they could go no further. Sara struggled as much as Saphira. Just when the dragons thought they had time to fold their wings, another gust filled them and sent them further backwards. However, Blaster wouldn't have any of this. Using his powers openly for the first time, he used his ability to control the air around him to gently drop Saphira and Sara to the ground. His powers started to drain him as the dragons found it much easier to fold their wings. He slowly lifted his powers and the dragons came up to their Riders.

_You okay?_ Blaster asked, breathing heavily. He could feel Sara trembling.

_Yeah,_ Sara replied. _Nothing's broken. The wind was just too strong. Even with your landing guidance, I couldn't do anything. That is until you did what you did. What magic do you hold?_

_ One that can never be transferred to another being,_ Blaster said. _That is the power of my ancestors. With that, I will allow you information of my past, but you must keep it secret. You must promise me in the Ancient Language._

After Sara had promised in the Ancient Language, Blaster allowed Sara access to the part of his mind that he had blocked off. Once she understood what he did, Eragon approached with Samson and Cadoc close by.

"That was wild," Eragon said, shook up. "Thanks for letting us all know about that gale."

"You can thank me once this storm passes," Blaster said. "We must continue if we are to gain more distance before the rain-shield hits." As he mounted Samson, he muttered, "I really could use RADAR now. The National Weather Service would be _overjoyed_ with hurricane-force wind gusts from a storm like this."

The pace was slow as Sara and Saphira crawled back to Brom. He asked if they were hurt, but Blaster and Eragon assured him that they weren't. Blaster dismounted, then cursed. Brom pointed to sheets of grey ahead; the rain shield had arrived. "What else?" Eragon cried, pulling his clothes tighter. The rain hit them hard, causing them to wince. The rain stung when it hit them, and before long, they were soaked to the bone and shivering.

Lightning forked through the sky, flickering in and out of existence with every bolt. Mile-high blue bolts streaked across the horizon, followed by the loud cracks and rumbles of thunder that even shook the ground below. It was beautiful, yet deadly at the same time. Grass fires started in some areas where the lightning bolts had hit the ground, but the flames were quickly extinguished by the rain.

The storm slowly abated, but as the day continued, they all traveled elsewhere. The sky was once again visible, and the sunset was beautiful, and less deadly than the storm. As the light struck the clouds, the world gained a sharp contrast; light on one side, but deeply shadowed on the other. Ordinary things took on unnatural beauty. It was almost as if they were walking through a painting.

The rejuvenated earth smelled fresh, and it cleared their minds and raised their spirits. Saphira and Sara both stretched and craned their necks before letting of a happy roar. The horses skittered away from them, but Eragon, Blaster, and Brom all smiled at their exuberance. When they made camp that night in a shallow depression, they had dinner, then went to bed, too exhausted to spar.

Blaster too felt exhausted, especially after helping calm the winds long enough to let the dragons fold their wings. Instead of falling asleep, however, he went into a state of meditation and began to absorb the power of the stars above, taking in the energy he would need to perform his special brand of magic at full power for at least a week or more. It wasn't long before he too went from meditating to sleep.

* * *

><p><strong>Will they make it to Yazuac before another storm hits? Will Blaster's powers be enough to help a second time? Will there ever be a simple way of doing things? The answers to these and more when we return next time to <em>Free Riders.<em>**

**Please R&R, and no flames please.**


	13. Ch12: Yazuac Revelation

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Thank you.

Chapter 12: Yazuac Revelation

The storm had allowed them to partially refill their water skins, yet even Blaster's reserve canteen was empty by that morning. Unable to use his power to summon water from the vapor in the air without revealing his powers, Blaster sighed before closing the lid of his canteen and stuffed it in the nearest saddlebag. "I hope we're going in the right direction," said a concerned Eragon, crunching up the empty water bag, "because we'll be in trouble if we don't reach Yazuac today."

Brom didn't seem disturbed. "I have been this way before. Yazuac will be in sight before dusk."

"Perhaps you see something I don't," Eragon laughed doubtfully. "How can you know that when everything looks the same for leagues around?"

"Because I am guided not by the land, but by the stars and the sun," Brom replied, a smile on his face. "They will not lead us astray. Now, let us be off. It is foolish to conjure up woe where none exists. Yazuac will be there."

Turned out he was right. Saphira and Sara found the village first, but it wasn't until later in the day that the rest of them saw it as a dark bump on the horizon. Yazuac was still pretty far away, only visible because of the uniform flatness of the plains. As they rode closer, a dark winding line appeared on either side of the town and disappeared in the distance.

"The Ninor River," Brom said, pointing at it

Eragon pulled Cadoc to a stop, and Blaster followed suit, having been behind Eragon. "Saphira and Saranya will be seen if they stay with us much longer. Should they hide while we go into Yazuac?"

Brom scratched his chin and looked at the town. "See that bend in the river?" he asked, pointing to one of the bends. "Have them wait there. It's far enough from Yazuac so no one should find them, but close enough so that they won't be left behind. We'll go through the town, get what we need, and then meet them."

_I don't like it much_, Sara said when Blaster explained the plan. _This is just annoying, having to hide all the time like a criminal._

_I am aware,_ Blaster replied. _But, you know what would happen if we were revealed to the world._ She grumbled, but gave in and flew away, low to the ground, Saphira in tow.

They kept a swift pace in anticipation of the food and drink they would soon enjoy. As they approached the small houses, they could see smoke from a dozen chimneys, but no one was in the streets. An abnormal silence enveloped the village. By unspoken consent they stopped before the first house.

"There aren't any dogs barking," Eragon said abruptly.

"No," Brom replied.

"Doesn't mean anything, though."

"…No." Eragon paused.

"Someone should have seen us by now."

"True," Blaster piped up.

"Then why hasn't anyone come out?" Eragon asked.

Brom squinted at the sun. "Could be afraid."

"Could be," Eragon replied. Everyone was silent for a moment.

"Could be a trap," Blaster said. "The Ra'zac could be waiting for us."

"We need provisions and water," Brom stated.

"We have the Ninor," Eragon replied.

"Still need provisions," Blaster said.

"True." Eragon looked around. "So we go in?"

Brom flicked his reins. "Yes, but not like fools," he said. "This is the main entrance to Yazuac. If there is an ambush waiting, it'll be along here. No one will expect us to arrive from a different direction."

"Then we take a side entrance," Blaster suggested. Brom nodded and pulled out his sword, resting the bare blade across his saddle. Eragon strung his bow and knocked an arrow. Blaster unbuttoned his pistol, then drew his own blade.

They trotted quietly around the town and entered it cautiously. The streets were empty except for a small fox that darted away when they got near it. The houses were dark and foreboding, with shattered windows. Many doors swung on broken hinges. The horses rolled their eyes nervously. Blaster's palm tingled slightly, but he didn't even bother to scratch it. He did mutter something about walking into a ghost town, and he would soon regret it. As they rode into the center of town, Eragon gripped his bow tighter blanching. "Gods above," he whispered.

A mountain of bodies rose above them, the corpses stiff and grimacing. Their clothes were soaked with blood, and the churned ground was stained with it. Slaughtered men lay over the women they had tried to protect, mothers still clasped their children, and lovers who had tried to shield each other rested in death's cold embrace. Black arrows stuck out of them all. Neither young nor old were spared. Worst of all, a barbed spear rose out of the peak of the pile, impaling the white body of a baby.

Blaster's heart clenched. He stared at the open eyes of the dead and wondered who would slaughtered so many people mercilessly. _What being alive would be this merciless?_ He wondered.

A crow dipped out of the sky, like a black shadow, and perched on the spear. It cocked its head and greedily scrutinized the infant's corpse. "Oh no you don't," Eragon snarled. He pulled back on the bowstring and released it with a twang. The crow fell over backwards in a puff of feathers, the arrow stuck in its chest. Eragon knocked another arrow, but nausea rose from his stomach and he threw up over Cadoc's side.

Brom patted Eragon on the back. When Eragon was done, Brom asked gently, "Do you want to wait for us outside Yazuac?"

"No…I'll stay," Eragon said shakily, wiping his mouth. He avoided looking at the gruesome sight before them. "Who could have done…" He couldn't force out the words.

Brom lowered his head, but Blaster spoke, his eyes still fixed upon the pile of the dead. "Those who love the pain and suffering of others. They can wear many faces and wear many disguises, but they all go by the same name: Evil. There's no understanding it, and there is no reasoning with it. All we can do is pity and honor the victims, and pray for their families."

Brom dismounted Snowfire and walked around, inspecting the trampled ground carefully. "The Ra'zac passed this way," he said slowly, "but this wasn't their doing. This is Urgal work. The spear is of their make. A company of them came through here, perhaps as many as a hundred. It's odd; I know of only a few instances when they have gathered in such…" he trailed off, kneeling down and examined a footprint intently. With a curse he ran back to Snowfire and leapt onto him.

"Ride!" he hissed tightly, spurring Snowfire forward. "There are still Urgals here!" Eragon and Blaster jammed their heels into their horses. They jumped forward and raced after Snowfire. They dashed past houses and were almost to the edge of the village when Eragon and Blaster felt their palms tingling again. Blaster saw something move to his right, then saw Eragon get smashed out of his saddle by a giant fist. He was soon smashed out of his saddle. He was stunned for a second, but flipped backwards to a standing position, furious.

An Urgal stood over him, face set in a gross leer. The monster was tall, thick, and broader than a doorway, grey skin and yellow piggish eyes. Muscles bulged on his arms and chest, and was covered by a breastplate that was too small for it. An iron cap rested over the pair of ram's horns curling from his temples, and a roundshield was bound to one arm. His powerful hand held a short but wicked sword. Eragon's looked almost exactly like his, but with different armor and a slightly different weapon.

Behind them, Blaster and Eragon saw Brom rein in Snowfire, only to be stopped by the appearance of a third Urgal, this one with an axe. "Run, you fools!" Brom cried to Eragon and Blaster, cleaving at his enemy. The Urgal in front of Eragon roared and swung his sword mightily. Eragon jerked back with a startled yelp as the weapon whistled past his cheek. He spun and fled toward the center of Yazuac.

Blaster faced his Urgal and blocked the monster's blade with his own. For the first time, Brom could see Blaster's fighting style. As the Urgal swung again, Blaster remained on the defensive, toying with his enemy. With every swing of the sword, Blaster held his ground until the Urgal slammed his shield into Blaster's side. Blaster lost some ground and got much angrier. It was time to go on the offensive. Seeing an opening, he stabbed. The Urgal blocked with his shield.

Before he could land another blow, he heard a whinnying. He looked over the Urgal's shoulder and saw blood streaming from Brom's arm, Brom himself doubled over in the saddle. Brom's Urgal howled in triumph and raised his ax for the death blow. Eragon let loose a deafening scream and charged at the Urgal, headfirst. The Urgal paused for a moment in astonishment, then faced Eragon contemptuously, swinging his axe. Eragon ducked under it and clawed at the Urgal's side with a handful of arrows. The Urgal's face twisted with rage and the beast swung again. Eragon dived down an alleyway to avoid it.

Eragon lured the Urgals away from Brom, all except for the one Blaster was working with. He was soon cut off when he went down a dead-end alley. Blaster, even without opening his mind to read Eragon's, could tell that Eragon's rage was increasing, especially after seeing the pile of bodies in the city center. He sighted his arrow, even after the two Urgals raised their shields. He had energy rolling through his body, and he released both his arrow and the energy with one word. "Brisingr!"

The arrow hissed through the air, glowing with a crackling blue light. It slammed into the lead Urgal in the forehead, exploding upon impact. The shockwave killed the other Urgal instantly. The shockwave passed through Eragon without harming him dispersing against the houses. This show of magic distracted Blaster long enough for the Urgal to twist his blade out of his hands. Without his sword, Blaster flipped backwards and withdrew his pistol. The Urgal laughed, then raised his shield.

Blaster pulled the trigger, releasing a bullet with a loud bang. The Urgal groaned in pain as it hit his unprotected arm, then tried to charge again. Another nine bangs and Blaster had emptied the clip. The Urgal was now riddled with bullet holes. The black blood flowed from the wounds and the Urgal fell to the ground, dead.

"I really didn't want to do that," Blaster said to himself. He holstered his empty pistol and made his way back over to the injured Brom. He calmed Snowfire with a soothing thought, then tended to the old man. "Are you okay?" Brom remained motionless. "Brom!" He still didn't respond. Seconds later, Eragon was nearby.

"What of the other Urgal?" Eragon asked.

"Swiss cheese," Blaster said. "He's as dead as the two you blew up." He reached for his sword. "Have you seen my blade?" Eragon wordlessly handed Cratona back to Blaster. He quickly sheathed it, then began to lift Brom out of the saddle. "Help me get him out of the saddle."

Eragon helped lift Brom out of the saddle, but he let go, leaving Blaster barely enough time to take up some of the slack. Eragon definitely looked completely exhausted. Before he could press the matter, screams of rage filled their heads. Saphira dove out of the sky and landed fiercely in front of them, wings half raised. Sara landed heavily behind her. They hissed angrily, eyes burning. Their tails lashed, and Eragon winced as they snapped overhead. _Are you hurt?_ Saphira asked the two of them, rage boiling in her voice.

"No," Eragon assured. Blaster laid Brom on his back.

Saphira growled, and exclaimed, _Where are the ones who did this? I shall tear them apart!_

Eragon pointed in the direction of the alley. "It'll do no good; they're already dead."

"Mine's got a few new body openings himself," Blaster added, thumbing the dead body behind him.

_You killed them?_ Both Saphira and Sara were surprised at Eragon's revelation. He nodded.

"Somehow," he said. With a few terse words, he told them what happened while he searched for Zar'roc in the saddle bags. He found it, and took one of the long rags off it.

_You have grown_, Sara said. Eragon merely grunted as he carefully rolled back Brom's sleeve. With a few deft strokes, he cleaned the cut and bandaged it tightly. Blaster double checked the bandage, then thought about what plants he could have used to help in the healing process. Eragon retrieved Brom's sword from the ground, wiped it clean, then returned it to the sheath on Brom's belt.

_Perhaps we should get out of here_, Sara said. _There may be more Urgals lurking about._

_And I have a fully-automatic weapon that can take care of them,_ Blaster insisted. _However, I do not think it wise to use such weaponry in this situation. Especially since I don't want to submit Eragon to that kind of danger again. Retreat is the best option._

_What of the old one?_ Sara asked.

_Looks like Eragon might have an idea. I think he's planning to let him ride on Saphira's saddle. Especially since the straps on the saddle will keep him in place_.

Eragon did just that. He tied the saddle to Saphira's back, then tried to lift Brom without help. His failing strength meant that Saphira had to snake her head past him and lift the old man by his robe. She deposited him on her back and allowed Eragon to slip Brom's legs through the saddle's straps and tightened them. He looked up as the old man moaned and shifted. He blinked blearily and put a hand to his head before looking down at Eragon, eyes full of concern.

"Did Saphira and Sara get here in time?" Brom asked. Eragon shook his head.

"I'll explain it later," Eragon said. "Your arm is injured. I bandaged it as best I could, but you need a safe place to rest."

"Yes," Brom agreed, gingerly touching his arm. He then felt for his weapon. "Do you know where my sword…Ah, I see you found it"

Eragon finished tightening the straps. "Saphira is going to take you and follow us by air."

"Are you sure you want me to ride her?" Brom asked. "I can ride Snowfire."

"Not with that arm," Blaster said. "At least this way, if you should faint, you won't fall off your ride."

Brom nodded, then said to Eragon, "I'm honored." He then looked into Blaster's eyes and got a sense of knowing from him before he wrapped his good arm around Saphira's neck. She took off in a flurry, springing high into the sky, followed quickly by Sara. Eragon and Blaster backed away, buffeted by the eddies from their wings, and returned to the horses. Eragon tied Snowfire behind Cadoc, then, once Blaster had climbed onto Samson, they left Yazuac, returning to the trail and following it southward.

* * *

><p><strong>Will Brom survive? When will Blaster finally reveal his weaponry? Will they catch the Ra'zac in time? Find out next time in the next chapter of <em>Free Riders.<em>**

**R&R if you would please. Thanks.**


	14. Ch13: The Might of Magic

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 13: The Might of Magic

The road out of Yazuac led through a rocky area, veered left, then continued along the bank of the Ninor. Varieties of ferns, mosses, and small bushes dotted the pathside. It was refreshingly cool under the trees, but it wasn't enough to lull Eragon or Blaster into a sense of security. They stopped briefly to fill the waterskins and Blaster's canteen, then let the horses drink. Glancing down, Eragon saw the Ra'zac's spoor. Showing it to Blaster, the alien confirmed that they were headed in the right direction. Saphira and Sara circled overhead to keep an eye on them.

It disturbed both of them that they had seen only three Urgals. The villagers had been killed and the village itself ransacked by a large horde, but where was it? Blaster and Eragon tossed around ideas as to why they had only seen the three. Some of those ideas included them being the rear guard, to a trap left for anyone following the main force, to even deserters, keen to ransack the village while the main force marched on.

Eragon's thoughts then turned to how he had killed the Urgals. It was with magic, something a farm boy from Palancar Valley shouldn't be able to do under normal circumstances. He had somehow become a sorcerer, yet Blaster acted just as confused as Eragon was. However, neither knew how to use this new power again or the limits and dangers that might come with it. Eragon wondered how he could have this ability, if it was common among Riders, and why Brom didn't tell him about it if he knew.

They conversed with Saphira and Sara to check on Brom's condition and to share thoughts. The dragons were just as puzzled as they were. They shook the thoughts from their mind and asked the dragons to find a spot to settle down for the night. While the dragons searched, they continued along the Ninor.

The summons reached them just as the light was fading. _Come_. Saphira sent an image to them of a secluded clearing in the trees by the river. They changed their direction and sped up to a trot. With Saphira's help, it was easy to find, but was so well concealed that even Blaster doubted that anyone else would notice it.

A tiny, smokeless fire was already burning when they entered the clearing. Brom sat next to it, tending to his arm, which he held at an awkward angle. Saphira and Sara were both crouched behind him, their bodies tense. While Saphira questioned Eragon, Sara looked intently at Blaster and asked, _Are you sure you are alright?_

_It'll take more than a shield to the side to get me down._

_ We should have been there sooner._

_ Do not fret. We've all made mistakes today. We should have high-tailed it out of there when we had the chance to._ Her gratitude of that remark washed over him and he smiled. Eragon looked at Brom and asked, "How are you?"

The old man glanced at his arm. "It's a large scratch and hurts terribly, but it should heal quickly enough. I need a fresh bandage, though. This one didn't last as long as I'd hoped." They boiled water to wash Brom's wound, then Brom, with the help of Blaster, tied a fresh rag to his arm. Finally, looking to Eragon, he said, "I must eat, and you look hungry as well. Let's have dinner first, then we shall talk."

When their bellies were full and warm, Brom lit his pipe. "Now, I think it's time for you two to tell me what transpired while I was unconscious. I am most curious." His face reflected the flickering firelight, and his bushy eyebrows stuck out fiercely.

Eragon nervously clasped his hands and told the story, up to his little state of unconsciousness, without embellishment. Brom remained silent throughout it, his face inscrutable. When Eragon finished, Blaster picked up where Eragon left off and told Brom that he had taken care of the last Urgal seconds after Eragon passed out. Brom looked down at the ground. For a long time, only the snapping fire could be heard. Finally, Brom stirred. "Have you used this power before?"

"No," Eragon said. "Do you know anything about it?"

"A little." Brom's face was thoughtful. "It seems I owe you a debt for saving my life. I hope I can return the favor someday. You should be proud. Few escape unscathed from slaying their first Urgal. But, the manner in which you did it, Eragon, was very dangerous. You could have destroyed yourself and the whole town."

"It wasn't as if I had a choice," Eragon defended. "The Urgals were almost upon me. If I had waited, they would have chopped me into pieces."

"If you had waited, I would have abandoned mine and rescued you," Blaster said. "I am proficient with the sword."

Brom stamped his teeth vigorously on the pipe stem. "You didn't have any idea what you were doing."

"Then tell me," Eragon challenged. "I've been searching for answers to this mystery, but I can't make sense of it. What happened? How could I have possibly used magic? No one has ever instructed me in it or taught me spells."

Brom's eyes flashed. "This isn't something you should be taught, much less use!"

"Well, I _have_ used it, and I may need it to fight again," Eragon protested. "But I won't be able to if you don't help me. What's wrong? Is there some secret I'm not supposed to learn until I'm old and wise? Or maybe you don't know anything about magic!"

"Boy!" Brom roared. "You demand answers with an insolence rarely seen. If you knew what you asked for, you would not be so quick to inquire. Do not try me." He paused, and relaxed to respond in a kinder way. "The knowledge you ask for is more complex than you understand."

Eragon rose hotly in protest. "I feel as though I've been thrust into a world with strange rules that no one will explain."

"I understand," Brom said. He fiddled with a piece of grass. "It's late and we should sleep, but I will tell you a few things now, to stop your badgering. This magic, for it is magic, has rules like the rest of the world. If you break these rules, the penalty is death, without exception. Your deeds are limited by your strength, the words you know, and your imagination."

"What do you mean by words?" Eragon asked.

"More questions!" Brom cried. "For a moment, I had hoped you were empty of them."

"He does have a right to know," Blaster commented. "Eragon, when you shot the Urgals, did you say something?"

"Yes, _brisingr_," Eragon replied. The fire flared and a shiver ran through Eragon. Something about the word made him feel alive.

"I thought so," Brom said. "_Brisingr_ is from an ancient language that all living things used to speak. However, it was forgotten over time and went unspoken for eons in Alagaësia, until the elves brought it back over the sea. They taught it to the other races, who used it for making and doing powerful things. The language has a name for everything, if you can find it."

"But what does that have to do with magic?" Eragon asked.

"Everything!" Brom replied. "It is the basis for all power. The language describes the true nature of things, not the superficial aspects that everyone sees. For example, fire is called _brisingr_. Not only is that a name for fire, it is _the_ name for fire. If you are strong enough, you can use _brisingr_ to direct fire to do whatever you will. And that's what happened today."

"Hold on," Blaster suddenly said. "Okay, one: why was his fire blue? And does that mean that mine will be tinted white? And two: how come it did exactly what Eragon wanted if all he said was _fire_?"

"To answer your questions in order," Brom said, "the color varies from person to person. It depends on who says the word. As to why the fire did what Eragon wanted, that's a matter of practice. Most beginners have to spell out exactly what they want to happen. As they gain more experience, it isn't as necessary. A true master could say _water_ and create something totally unrelated, like a gemstone. You wouldn't be able to understand how he had done it, but the master would have seen the connection between _water_ and the gem and would have used that as the focal point for his power. The practice is more of an art than anything else. What you did was extremely difficult, Eragon."

Eragon thought for a moment, conversing with Saphira. He then had a thought and voiced it. "Saphira and I just realized something. You can use this magic, can't you? That's how you started the fire our first day on the plains."

Brom inclined his head slightly and said, "I am proficient to some degree."

"Then why didn't you fight the Urgals with it?" Eragon demanded. "In fact, I can think of many times when it would have been useful—you could have shielded us from the storm and kept the dirt out of our eyes."

Brom refilled his pipe. When he was done, he said, "Some simple reasons, really. I am not a Rider, which means that, even at your weakest moment, you are stronger than I. And I have outlived my youth; I'm not as strong as I used to be. Every time I reach for magic, it gets a little harder."

Eragon dropped his eyes, abashed. "I'm sorry," he said weakly.

"Don't be," Brom replied as he shifted his arm. "It happens to everyone."

"Where did you learn to use magic?" Blaster asked. He already knew, but he had to appear as ignorant as Eragon was.

"That is one fact I'll keep to myself," Brom replied. "Suffice to say, it was in a remote area and from a very good teacher. I can, at the very least, pass on his lessons." He snuffed his pipe with a small rock. "I know that you have more questions, but they must wait until morning." He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. "Until then, I will say this to discourage any experiments: magic takes just as much energy as if you used your arms and back. That is why you felt tired after destroying the Urgals. And that's why I was angry. It was a dreadful risk on your part. If the magic had used more energy than was in your body, it would have killed you."

"So it's like this fire," Blaster said, gesturing to the fire. "It will only burn so long as it has some sort of fuel and oxygen. Once it burns through the fuel and it cannot reach another source, it will die."

"Correct," Brom replied. "Also, you should use magic only for tasks that can't be accomplished the mundane way."

"How do you know if a spell will use all your energy?" Eragon asked, frightened.

Brom raised his hands. "Most of the time you don't. That's why magicians have to know their limits well, and even then they are cautious. Once you commit to a task and release the magic, you can't pull back, even if it's going to kill you. I mean this as a warning: don't try anything until you've learned more. Now, enough for tonight."

As they spread their blankets for the night, Sara commented with satisfaction, _We are becoming more powerful, Blaster. Both of us._

_The question then becomes what we do next_, Blaster replied.

_Whatever we want_, she said smugly, settling down for the night.

Blaster barely even meditated that night. He spent some of his time sifting through the loose bullets still in his ammo bag. Once he refilled the clip, he placed it on top of its neat pile, only to have all the newly formed piles fall over as he shifted his weight slightly to stand up. As he sat, watching the embers burn themselves out, he began to hear something in the back of his head. It was similar to how he was able to communicate with the dragons, but there was something familiar about it.

_Blaster, I know you are out there,_ the voice said. It didn't take long to figure out it was Char.

_Char, is that you?_ He tried his best, but got no response.

_I don't know where I am,_ Char said. _I have been here for a few months, and I need help. Can't reach Alice to message you. You should have been here by now. I hope for my sake as well as yours that you come to rescue us. Arya and I are in deep trouble if you don't. Find us, Blaster. Please!_

The presence left his mind as quickly as it had arrived. He thought long and hard at those words, then opened his mind as far as it would go to shout one thing.

_I WILL find you, Char! My mission will not allow me to find you at this moment. But I will come. It will take me some time, but I will come. I promise._

* * *

><p><strong>How can Char contact Blaster? Where is she? Where will the group go next? Find out next in another double-header "episode" of<strong>_** Free Riders.**_

__**Please R&R.  
><strong>


	15. Ch14: Practice Makes Perfect

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 14: Practice Makes Perfect

"Did you hear something last night?" Eragon asked. Brom shook his head, but Blaster looked a little worried.

_Did you shout last night, Blaster?_ Sara asked.

_Yes, I did,_ Blaster replied. _I thought I heard my best friend. I am sorry if I woke you._

"Must have been my imagination," Eragon replied. They were busy packing up, and once they hit the road, Eragon became ignorant city once again. "Why do you think those three Urgals were still in Yazuac? There doesn't seem to be any reason for them to have stayed behind."

"I suspect they deserted the main group to loot the town." Blaster muttered an "I knew it!" but quieted seconds later to let Brom continue. "What makes it odd is that, as far as I know, Urgals have gathered in force only two or three times in history. It's unsettling that they are doing it now."

"Do you think the Ra'zac caused the attack?"

"I don't know," Brom replied. "The best thing we can do is continue away from Yazuac at the fastest pace we can muster. Besides, this is the direction the Ra'zac went: south."

"We're still gonna need provisions," Blaster commented. "Is there another town nearby that hasn't been run over by the bulldozer of war?"

Brom shook his head. "No, but Saphira and Sara can hunt for us if we must survive on meat alone. This swath of trees may look small to you, but there are plenty of animals in it. The river is the only source of water for many miles around, so most of the plains animals come here to drink. We won't starve."

Eragon and Blaster remained quiet, satisfied with the answer. As they rode, loud birds darted around them, and the river rushed by peacefully. It was a noisy place, full of life and energy. Blaster took in the sights and sounds before Eragon spoke up.

"How did that Urgal get you?" Eragon asked. "Things were happing so fast, I didn't see."

"Bad luck, really," Brom grumbled. "I was more than a match for him, so he kicked Snowfire. The idiot of a horse reared and threw me off balance. That was all the Urgal needed to give me this gash." He scratched his chin before continuing. "I suppose you're still wondering about this magic. The fact you've discovered it presents a thorny problem. Few know it, but every Rider could use magic, though with differing strengths. They kept the ability secret, even at the height of their power, because it gave them an advantage over their enemies. Had everyone known about it, dealing with common people would have been difficult. Many think the king's magical powers come from the fact that he is a wizard or sorcerer. That's not true because he's in fact a Rider."

"What's the difference?" Eragon asked. "Does the fact that I used magic make me a sorcerer?"

"Not at all!" Brom replied. "A sorcerer, like a Shade, uses spirits to accomplish his will. That is totally different from your power. Nor does that make you an ordinary, run-of-the-mill magician, whose powers come without the aid of spirits or a dragon. And you're certainly not a witch or wizard, who gets their powers from various potions and spells.

"Which brings me back to my original point: the problem you've presented," Brom continued. "Young Riders like yourself, Eragon, were put through a strict regimen designed to strengthen their bodies and increase their mental control. This regimen continued for many months, occasionally years, until the Riders were deemed responsible enough to handle magic. Up until then, not one student was told of his potential powers. If one of them discovered magic by accident, he or she was immediately taken away for private tutoring. It was rare for anyone to discover magic on his own," he inclined his head toward Eragon, "though they never were put under the same pressure you were."

"How were they finally trained to use magic, then?" Blaster asked. "I mean, I don't see how you could just teach it to anyone. If you had tried to explain it to us a few days ago, it wouldn't have made much sense. Then again, nothing has made much sense recently."

"The students were presented with a series of pointless exercises designed to frustrate them," Brom replied. "For example, they were instructed to move piles of stones using only their feet, fill ever draining tubs full of water, and other impossibilities. After a time, they would get infuriated enough to use magic. Most of the time it succeeded.

"What this means," Brom continued, "is that you will be disadvantaged if you ever meet an enemy who has received this training. There are still some alive who are that old: the king for one, not to mention the elves. Any one of those could tear you apart with ease."

"What can we do, then?" Eragon asked.

"There isn't time for formal instruction, but we can do much while we travel," Brom said. "I know many techniques you can practice that will give you strength and control, but you cannot gain the discipline the Riders had overnight. You," he looked at Eragon, then Blaster humorously, "will have to amass it on the run. It will be hard in the beginning, but the rewards will be great. It may please you to know that no Rider your age ever used magic the way you did yesterday with those two Urgals."

"Thank you," Eragon said, smiling at the praise. "Does this language have a name?"

Brom laughed. "Yes, but no one knows it. I would be a word of incredible power, something by which you could control the entire language and those who use it. People have long searched for it, but no one has ever found it."

"I still don't understand how this magic works," Eragon said. "Exactly how do I use it?"

"Haven't I made that clear?" Brom asked, looking astonished.

"No," Eragon deadpanned.

Brom took a deep breath and said, "To work with magic, you must have a certain innate power, which is very rare among people nowadays. You also have to be able to summon this power at will. Once it is called upon, you have to use it or let it fade away. Understood?" Eragon nodded slightly. "Now, if you wish to employ the power, you must utter the word or phrase of the ancient language that describes your intent. For example, if you hadn't said _brisingr_ yesterday, nothing would have happened."

"So, we'd be limited by our knowledge of the language," Blaster interjected.

"Exactly," Brom crowed. "Also, while speaking it, it's impossible to practice deceit."

Eragon shook his head. "That can't be. People always lie. The sounds of the ancient words can't stop them from doing that."

Brom cocked an eyebrow and said, "Fethrblaka, eka weohnata néiat haina ono. Blaka eom iet lam." A bird suddenly flitted from a branch and landed on his hand. It trilled lightly and looked at them with beady eyes. After a moment he said, "Eitha," and it fluttered away.

"Wow," Blaster said.

"How did you do that?" Eragon asked in wonder.

"I promised not to harm him," Brom replied. "He may not have known exactly what I meant, but in the language of power, the meaning of my words was evident. The bird trusted me because he knows what all animals do, that those who speak in that tongue are bound by their word."

"And the elves speak this language," Eragon asked.

"Yes."

"So, they don't ever lie," Blaster guessed.

"Not quite," Brom admitted. "They maintain that they don't, and in a way it's true, but they have perfected the art of saying one thing and meaning another. You never know exactly what their intent is, or if you have fathomed it correctly. May times they only reveal part of the truth and withhold the rest. It takes a refined and subtle mind to deal with their culture."

Eragon considered that, then asked, "What do personal names mean in this language? Do they give power over people?"

Brom's eyes brightened with approval. "Yes, they do. Those who speak the language have two names. The first is for everyday use and has little authority. But the second is their true name and is shared with only a few trusted people. There was a time when no one concealed their true name, but this age isn't as kind. Whoever knows your true name gains enormous power over you. It's like putting your life into another person's hands. Everyone has a hidden name, but few know what it is."

"And how would one find their true name?" Blaster asked.

"Elves instinctively know theirs," Brom replied. "No one else has that gift. The human Riders usually went on quests to discover it—or found an elf who would tell them, which was rare, for elves don't distribute that knowledge freely."

"I'd like to know mine," Eragon said wistfully.

Brom's brow darkened. "Be careful," he warned. "It can be a terrible knowledge. To know who you are without any delusions or sympathy is a moment of revelation that no one experiences unscathed. Some have been driven to madness by that stark reality. Most try to forget it. But as much as the name will give others power, so you may gain power over yourself, if the truth doesn't break you."

_I think you might be strong enough,_ Sara stated to Blaster.

"I still wish to know," Eragon said, determined.

"I'm not so sure," Blaster said. "Power over a name is touchy. I wouldn't want to be controlled by someone who knows my true name." He paused for a second. "However, I suppose that I will eventually have to take that chance and find out sooner rather than later."

"You are not easily dissuaded," Brom said, a slight smile on his face. "That's good, for only the resolute find their identity, but I cannot help you with this. It is a search that each of you must undertake on your own." He moved his injured arm and grimaced uncomfortably.

"Why can't you or I heal that with magic," Eragon asked.

"No reason," Brom blinked. "I just never considered it because it's beyond my strength. You could possibly do it with the right word, but I don't want you to exhaust yourself."

"I could save you a lot of trouble and pain," Eragon protested.

"But, remember what Brom said about magic?" Blaster asked. "Using magic uses the same energy as it would if you were to use your own limbs. Likewise, the energy required to heal a wound would take just as much energy as it would to heal by itself. You shouldn't attempt it, especially since I'm sure we don't want you exhausted for the next few days."

"Still, if it's possible to fix your arm, could I bring someone back from the dead?"

The question surprised Brom and Blaster. The alien said, "Yeah, about that…"

"Remember what I said about projects that will kill you?" Brom asked. "That is one of them. Riders were forbidden to try to resurrect the dead, for their own safety. There is an abyss beyond life where magic means nothing. If you reach it, your strength will flee and your soul will fade into darkness. Wizards, sorcerers, and Riders—all have failed and died on that threshold. Stick with what's possible—cuts, bruises, maybe some broken bones, but definitely not dead people."

"But what about the spirits that sorcerers and Shades use? Aren't they human souls?" Eragon asked.

"No, and we have precious little idea where they come from," Brom replied.

"Well, I guess magic is a bit more complex and complicated than I first let on," Blaster mused.

"Exactly," Brom said. "And if you don't understand what you're doing, you'll try something too big and die." He twisted in his saddle and swooped down, grabbing a handful of pebbles from the ground. With effort, he righted himself, then discarded all but two of the rocks. "See these pebbles?"

"Yeah," Blaster replied.

"Each of you take one." Eragon did, and he picked up one, dull black, smooth, and about as big as the end of his thumb. Blaster picked one that was grey and barely the size of his pinky. There were countless stones like it on the trail. "This is your training."

Eragon looked at Brom, confused. "I don't understand."

"That's the whole point," Blaster said. "You're not supposed to understand. Hence why we're the students and he's the teacher, not the other way around. Now, Brom, what is the purpose of this exercise?"

"This is to train you in magic," Brom said. "I want you to lift the rock off your palm and hold it in the air for as long as you can. The words you are going to need are _stenr reisa._ Say them."

"Stenr reisa."

"Good. Go ahead and try."

Blaster focused on his pebble and searched his own mind for the magical power he now had. He found the barrier and easily breached it, but was shaken and had to retreat when Eragon exclaimed, "This is impossible."

"No," Brom said gruffly. "_I'll_ say when it's impossible or not. Fight for it! Don't give up so easily. Try again."

Blaster refocused on the pebble and found the barrier between him and his magical strength quicker and delved head-long into it. The barrier resisted, but he easily breached it a second time. Once he had the power, he muttered "Stenr reisa," and the pebble wobbled in his right hand, then lifted into the air a good six inches above his hand. Before he could breathe a sigh of relief, the power slipped back behind the barrier, and the pebble plopped back into his hand.

"Well, not bad for your first tries," Brom said. Eragon had done the same thing, but he was concerned.

"Why does it do that?" Eragon asked, looking at his hand. "It's like a little lantern."

"No one's sure," Brom admitted. "Riders always preferred to channel their power through whichever hand bore the gedwëy ignasia. You can use your other palm, but it isn't as easy." He looked at Eragon for a moment. "I'll buy you some gloves at the next town, if it isn't gutted. You hide the mark fairly well on your own, but we don't want anyone to see it by accident. Besides, there may be times when you don't want the enemy to be alerted by the glow."

"I guess I'm glad I thought ahead," Blaster said, showing off his fingerless gloves in the process.

"Do you have a mark of your own?" Eragon inquired.

"No. Only Riders have them," Brom said. "Also, you should know that magic is affected by distance, just like an arrow or a spear. If you try to lift or move something a mile away, it'll take more energy than if you were closer. So, if you see enemies racing after you from leagues away, let them approach before using magic. Now, back to work! Try to lift the pebble again."

"Again?" Eragon asked weakly. He was too busy thinking of the effort it had taken to do it just one time.

"Yes!" Brom instructed. "And this time be quicker about it."

They continued with exercises throughout most of the day. When Eragon finally stopped, he was tired and ill-tempered. Blaster, on the other hand, had gotten the hang of it, but he too was beginning to feel the exhaustion kick in. In those hours, they had come to hate their pebbles in varying degrees. Eragon started to throw his away when Brom said, "Don't. Keep it." Eragon reluctantly tucked the stone in one of his pockets, glaring at Brom all the way. Blaster wordlessly used his telekinesis to drop it into one of his jean pockets.

"We're not done yet," Brom warned, "so don't get comfortable yet." He pointed to a small plant and said "This is called _delois_." From there on, he instructed the two Riders in the ancient language, giving them works to memorize, from _vöndr_, a thin, straight stick, to the morning star, called _Aideail._

That evening, Blaster volunteered to fight in Brom's stead, but the man refused. He and Eragon sparred, though Brom fought with his left hand as opposed to his injured right. It seemed to Blaster that, like himself, Brom was ambidextrous, and his skill with a wooden sword was undiminished.

* * *

><p><strong>With this much training, will they snap under the pressure? Will they find a town that hasn't been destroyed? The answers to these and much more next week on <em>Free Riders.<em>**

****Please R&R. Flamers will taste _Brisingr_!


	16. Ch15: Daret Dilemma

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 15: Daret Dilemma

The days seemed to follow a similar pattern. First, Eragon struggled to learn the ancient words and manipulate the pebble, while Blaster nearly had everything down pact. Then, in the evening, Blaster would watch as Brom and Eragon sparred with the wooden swords. Eragon was in constant discomfort, but he gradually began to change, almost without noticing. Soon, his pebble no longer wobbled when he lifted it. He mastered the first exercises Brom gave him and undertook harder ones, similar to Blaster's. Their knowledge in the ancient language grew.

In the sparring, Eragon gained confidence and speed, striking like a snake would. His blows became heavier, and his arm no longer quivered when he warded off attacks. The clashes lasted longer as he learned how to fend off Brom. It got to the point where Blaster had to start awarding points to determine the winner, which was usually Brom. But now, when they went to sleep, Eragon wasn't the only one with bruises.

Saphira and Sara continued to grow as well, but much slower than before. Their extended flights, along with periodic hunts, kept them fit and healthy. They were soon taller than the horses, and much longer. Because of their size and the way their scales sparkled, they were altogether too visible. Brom, Eragon, and Blaster all worried about it, but they couldn't convince the dragons to allow dirt to obscure their scintillating hide.

They all continued southward, tracking the Ra'zac. It frustrated Eragon more than Blaster that, no matter how fast they went, the Ra'zac always stayed a few days ahead of them. At times he was ready to give up, but then they would find a new mark or print that would renew his hope.

There were no signs of habitation along the Ninor or in the plains, leaving the five companions undisturbed as the days seemed to slip by. Finally, they neared Daret, the first village since Yazuac. The night before they reached the village, Eragon seemed to have a nightmare.

Blaster, who was still awake, soaking up the energy from a dying white dwarf star billions of miles away, could hear Eragon waking up and feeling ill. He watched as Eragon watched the stars slowly turn in the sky, then could feel Saphira's presence in Eragon's mind, soothing him. He let it go as Eragon fell back to sleep.

Daret was on the banks of the Ninor—as it had to be in order to survive. The village was small and wild looking, without any signs of inhabitants. Eragon, Brom, and Blaster approached it with great caution, Blaster even unbuckling the strap holding his pistols in his holsters. Saphira and Sara hid close to the town this time, so that if trouble arose, they would be there within seconds.

They rode into Daret, striving to be silent. Brom gripped his sword with his good hand, eyes flashing everywhere. Blaster was just as cautious. Eragon kept his bow partially drawn as they passed between the silent houses, glancing at each other with apprehension. _This looks suspicious,_ Blaster said to Sara. She didn't answer, but he could feel her preparing to rush in after them. Eragon looked at the ground and was reassured to see fresh footprints of children. _But where are they?_

Brom and Blaster stiffened as they entered the center of the town, but they found it empty. Wind blew through the ghost town, dust devils swirling sporadically. Brom wheeled Snowfire about. "Let's get out of here," he said. "I don't like the feel of this." He spurred Snowfire into a gallop. Eragon followed him, urging Cadoc forward. Blaster followed soon after.

They advanced only a few strides before wagons toppled out from behind the houses and blocked their way. Cadoc snorted and dug in his hooves, sliding to a stop before Snowfire. Blaster slowed Samson to a trot, stopping behind Brom and Eragon. A swarthy man hopped over the wagon and planted himself before them, a broadsword slung at his side and a drawn bow in his hands. Eragon swung his own bow up, followed by one of Blaster's two pistols, and they pointed their weapons at the stranger, who demanded, "Halt! Put down your weapons. You're surrounded by archers. They'll shoot if you move." As if on cue, a row of men stood up on the rooftops of the surrounding houses.

_Sara, stand down,_ Blaster said. _There are too many to take out. They'd shoot you out of the sky if you were to arrive._ She heard, but he was unsure if she would obey. Finally, to make sure she would he said, _I will let you know if the situation can be diffused peacefully. Besides I have a few tricks up my sleeve._ He thought for a second, then decided to try and infiltrate the mind of the other guys.

"What do you want?" Brom asked calmly.

"Why have you come here?" the man demanded.

"To buy supplies and hear the news, nothing more," Brom said. "We're on the way to my cousin's house in Dras-Leona."

Blaster had finally hacked into the man's brain. Upon reading his mind, he realized another's presence. Brom was also inside this guys mind. However, he seemed satisfied. It took Blaster two seconds to realize why. _We can stand-down, Sara,_ Blaster said, as soon as he retreated from the man's mind. _We are safe. They are merely protecting their own._

_Understood,_ Sara replied. _But I still don't like it._

Blaster pulled the trigger on his pistol while holding back the hammer, de-priming his pistol. He dropped his aim and holstered his pistol, in his opinion, a sign of trust. Eragon was confused, but didn't press the issue.

"You're armed pretty heavily," the man said.

"As are you," Brom replied. "These are dangerous time."

"True," the man said. He looked at them carefully. "I don't think you mean us ill, but we've had too many encounters with Urgals and bandits for me to trust you only on your word."

"If it doesn't matter what we say, what happens now?" Blaster said, calmly as could be. The men on top of the houses hadn't moved, and it was just a guess that they were either highly disciplined, or frightened for their lives. Eragon hoped it was the latter, while Blaster knew it was both.

"You say that you only want supplies. Would you agree to stay here while he while we bring what you need, then pay us and leave immediately?"

"Yes."

"All right," the man said, lowering his bow, though he kept it ready. He waved at one of the archers, who slid to the ground and ran over. "Tell him what you want."

Brom recited a short list, then added, "Also, if you have a spare pair of gloves that would fit my nephew, I'd like to buy those too." The archer nodded and ran off.

"The name's Trevor," the man in front of them said. "Normally I'd shake your hand, but under the circumstances, I think I'll keep my distance. Tell me, where are you from?"

"North," Brom said, "but we haven't lived in any place long enough to call it home. Have Urgals forced you to these measures?"

"Yes" Trevor replied, "and worse fiends. Do you have any news from other towns? We receive word from them rarely, but there have been reports that they are also beleaguered."

Brom's and Blaster's faces turned grave. "I wish these circumstances were better, and that we didn't have to bring you this news," Blaster said. "Nearly a fortnight ago, we passed through Yazuac and found it pillaged. The villagers had been slaughtered and piled together. From what we could see, there were no survivors. We would have tried to give them a decent burial, but we were attacked by three Urgals."

Shocked, Trevor stepped back and looked down with tears in his eyes. "Alas," he said, "this is indeed a dark day. Still, I don't see how three Urgals could have defeated all of Yazuac. The people there were good fighters—some were my friends."

"There were signs that a band of Urgals had ravaged the town," Brom stated. "I think the ones we encountered were deserters."

"How large was the company?"

Brom fiddled with his saddle bags for a moment. "Large enough to wipe out Yazuac, but small enough to go unnoticed in the countryside. No more than a hundred, and no less than fifty. If I'm not mistaken, either number would prove fatal to you." Trevor wearily agreed. "You should consider leaving," Brom continued. "This area has become far too perilous for anyone to live in peace."

"I know," Trevor agreed, "but the people here refuse to consider moving. This is their home—as well as mine, though I have only been here a couple of years—and they place its worth above their own lives." Trevor looked at Brom seriously. "We have repulsed individual Urgals, and that has given the townspeople a confidence far beyond their abilities. I fear that we will all wake up one morning with our throats slashed."

The archer hurried out of a house with a pile of goods in his arms. He set them next to the horses, and Brom paid him. As the man left, Brom asked, "Why did they choose you to defend Daret?"

Trevor shrugged. "I was in the king's army for some years."

Brom dug through the items, handed Eragon the pair of gloves, and packed the rest of the supplies into their saddlebags. Eragon pulled the gloves on, being very careful to keep his palm facing down. When they were on, he flexed his hands. The leather felt good and strong, though scarred from use.

"Well," Brom said, "as I promised, we will go now."

Trevor nodded. "When you enter Dras-Leona, would you do us this favor? Alert the Empire to out plight and that of the other towns. If word hasn't reached the king by now, it's caused for worry. And if it has, but he has chosen to do nothing, that too is cause for worry."

"We will carry your message. May your swords stay sharp," Brom said.

"And yours," Trevor replied.

The wagons were pulled away, and they rode from Daret into the trees along the Ninor. Blaster sent his thoughts to Sara. _Situation has been diffused. We are returning._ Her response was relief, but he could feel the simmering anger of Saphira.

Brom pulled at his beard. "The Empire is in worse condition than I had imagined," Brom mused. "When the traders visited Carvahall, they brought reports of unrest, but I never believed that it was this widespread. With all these Urgals around, it seems that the Empire itself is under attack, yet no troops or soldiers have been sent out. It's as if the king doesn't care to defend his domain."

"Seems very odd to me as well," Blaster said. "Even though I don't know him specifically, it strikes me as odd that he doesn't defend against the Urgals. To me, it seems as if they are now working for him. But, with all this unrest, I think that might be a bit of a jump."

Brom ducked under a low-hanging branch. "Did either of you use any of your powers while we were in Daret?"

"There was no reason to," Eragon said.

"Wrong," Blaster said. "I did because the situation warranted it. You could have sensed Trevor's intentions. Heck, even with his limited abilities, Brom was able to do that." He paused. "Sorry, I just noticed you were searching for Trevor's intentions while I was doing my own search."

"Not a problem," Brom replied. "The fact of the matter is that if the villagers had been bent on killing us, I wouldn't have just sat there, and you wouldn't have lowered your weapon, Blaster. I felt there was a reasonable chance of talking our way out of there, which is what I did."

"How could I know what Trevor is thinking?" asked Eragon. "Am I supposed to be able to see into people's minds?"

"Come now," Brom chided, "you should know the answer to that. You could have discovered Trevor's purpose in the same way that you communicate with Cadoc or Saphira. The minds of men are not so different from a dragon's or a horse's. It's a simple thing to do, but it's a power you must use sparingly and with great caution. A person's mind is his last sanctuary. You must never violate it unless circumstances force you to. The Riders had very strict rules regarding this. If they were broken without due cause, the punishment was severe."

"And you can do this even though you aren't a Rider?" Eragon asked.

"As I said before, with the right instruction anyone can talk with their minds, but with differing amounts of success," Brom replied. "Whether it's magic, though, is hard to tell. Magical abilities will certainly trigger the talent—or becoming linked with a dragon—but I've known plenty who learned it on their own. Think about it: you can communicate with any sentient being, though the contact may not be very clear. You could spend the entire day listening to a bird's thoughts or understanding how an earthworm feels during a rainstorm. But I've never found birds very interesting. I suggest starting with a cat; they have unusual personalities."

_I would know_, Blaster thought to himself. The thoughts of carrying Cratona, then looking more like a skeleton key, while running around looking like a young lion was enough to remember how complex a feline mind could be.

Eragon twisted Cadoc's reins in his hands, considering the implications of what Brom had said. "But if I can get into someone's head, doesn't that mean that others can do the same to me? How do I know if someone's prying into my mind? Is there a way to stop that?"

"Why, yes," Brom said. "Hasn't Saphira ever blocked you from her mind?"

"Occasionally," Eragon admitted. "When she took me into the Spine, I couldn't talk to her at all. It wasn't that she was ignoring me; I don't think she could even hear me. There were walls around her mind that I couldn't get through."

Brom worked on his bandage for a moment, shifting it higher on his arm. "Only a few people can tell if someone is in their mind, and of those, only a handful could stop you from entering," he said. "It's a matter of training and of how you think. Because of your magical power, you'll always know if someone is in your mind. Once you do, blocking them is a simple matter of concentrating on one thing to the exclusion of all else. For instance, if you only think about a brick wall, that's all the enemy will find in your mind. However, it takes a huge amount of energy and discipline to block someone for any length of time. If you're distracted by even the slightest thing, your wall will waver and your opponent will slip in through the weakness."

"How can I learn to do this?" Eragon asked.

"There is only one thing for it: practice, practice, and yet more practice. Picture something in your mind and hold it there to the exclusion of all else for as long as you can. It is a very advanced ability; only a handful have ever mastered it," Brom said.

"I don't need perfection, just safety," Eragon replied.

They reached Saphira and Sara, but Saphira was seemingly angry. She startled them by thrusting her head at them, causing the horses to backpedal nervously. This concerned Eragon and he looked at Brom, since he had never seen Saphira this angry. Strangely enough, Sara was almost at the same level, but she was taking the matter a little bit lightly.

_What is the issue?_ Blaster asked Sara.

_You and him_, Sara said. _You guys…apparently._

Eragon frowned and got off Cadoc. As soon as his feet touched the ground, he knew that it wasn't the wisest decision he could have made.

* * *

><p><strong>What happens now? Will they get to Dras Leona and call for aid? Or will they be forced to take other measures? Find out next time on <em>Free Riders.<em>**

As per request, I am trying to ship these out as fast as possible to get to the next book (as is, I'm just copying the main story from the book). My question to you is this, would it be better to do a double-feature (two in one day), or have chapters come in twice a week (like a Tuesday and Friday update per week)? Let me know and I will do my best to comply. Thanks, Blastbone.


	17. Ch16: Dragon Riding

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 16: Dragon Riding

As soon as Eragon's feet touched the ground, Saphira's tail whipped them out from under him. Before he could stand up, Saphira had him pinned. He yelled at Saphira, wondering what she was doing, and struggled to get up. However, Saphira kept him pinned.

_I'm going to get off Samson,_ Blaster said to Sara. _I will trust you enough to not pin me to the ground like Saphira has._

_You have my word,_ Sara replied, then repeated it in the ancient language.

Blaster hopped off Samson and strode over to Sara. _I am sorry about what has happened. Trouble seems to attract to us as if we are magnets. However, you can be rest assured that I can fight my way out of most of my troubles._

_I am aware, but I am not so sure,_ Sara said. Her anger was beginning to rise, even with Blaster rubbing her neck. _But, you seem to have no care for me._

_I do,_ Blaster said. _Therefore, upon my word, I shall ride you tomorrow._

_You will?_ Sara asked.

_Am I not a Rider?_ Blaster was about to speak when Eragon finally found words again.

"She wants me to ride her tomorrow," the boy said.

"Well," Brom said, his eyes twinkling, "you have saddles. I suppose that if the four of you stay out of sight, it won't be a problem." Saphira's gaze switched to Brom, then back to Eragon.

"But what if you're attacked or there's an accident? We won't be able to get there in time and…"

"It's worth the risk," Brom said, hiding a smile. "You need to learn to ride her anyway. Think of it this way: with the four of you flying ahead and looking at the ground, you'll be able to spot any traps, ambushes, and other unpleasant surprises."

_Remind me to give you something before we go to sleep,_ Blaster muttered to Sara. She nodded, then took to the skies. Saphira soon followed, releasing Eragon. He grumbled as he returned to Cadoc and followed Brom, Blaster behind on Samson.

It was dusk when they made camp. As per usual, Eragon and Brom sparred before dinner. With Brom leading and Eragon ready to earn a point to tie, Eragon delivered a powerful blow, enough to snap both sticks as if they were twigs. Blaster dove to the side to avoid getting nailed with one of the many pieces that whistled into the darkness. He sat up as Brom tossed what remained of his stick into the fire.

"We're done with these," Brom said. "Throw yours in as well. You have learned well, but we've gone as far as we can with branches, and there is nothing more you can gain from them. It is time for you to use the blade." He removed Zar'roc from Eragon's bag and handed it to him.

"But, we'll cut each other to ribbons," Eragon protested.

"Correction, _we'll_ cut each other to ribbons," Blaster corrected. "That is, if it's alright with Brom for me to take his place."

"By all means," Brom said, "However, you both again forget magic." He withdrew his blade and turned it so that the firelight glinted off its edge. He placed a finger on either side of the blade and focused intently, increasing the depth of the lines on his face. He did nothing for a moment, then uttered, "Gëuloth du knífr!" and a small, red spark jumped between his fingers. He ran those fingers along the length of the blade, the spark flickering back and forth. He then twirled it and did the same thing to the other side. When he was done, he removed his fingers from the metal, the spark vanishing as he did so.

Brom then held out his hand, palm up, and slashed with the sword. Both Blaster and Eragon jumped forward, but were too slow to stop him. They were astonished when he raised his unharmed hand with a smile.

"What did you do?" Eragon asked.

"Feel the edge," Brom said. Both Blaster and Eragon touched it, and felt an invisible barrier about a quarter inch wide and slippery under their fingers. "Now you do the same on Zar'roc and Cratona," Brom instructed. "Your blocks will be a bit different from mine, but it should accomplish the same thing."

"So long as it can be reversed," Blaster said.

Brom smiled and nodded before instructing the two how to pronounce the words and coaching them through the process. It took Eragon a few more tries, but he soon had a sufficient block on Zar'roc. Blaster took a few less tries than Eragon, but his blade was just about a foot longer than Eragon's. Eragon felt confident, and took a fighting stance, while Blaster calmly lowered himself into his. Before they started, Brom admonished, "These swords won't cut you, but they can still break bones. I would prefer to avoid that, so, Eragon, don't flail around like you normally do. A blow to the neck could prove fatal."

Eragon nodded, then struck at Blaster without warning. Sparks flew from the blade and the clash of metal was heard as Blaster parried. The alien smiled, because he knew that Eragon was not used to the weight of Zar'roc yet. Blaster swung and rapped Eragon on the knee, the latter unable to move Zar'roc fast enough.

They continued until dinner was ready. By the time they had stopped, both had some large welts, but Eragon had amassed a good handful more than Blaster. Eragon marveled in the fact that Zar'roc had taken a beating, yet it hadn't been scratched or dented.

The next morning, Brom was getting Sara ready for Blaster. Having woken up before Eragon, Blaster decided to relish in the fact that he would be the first to take to the skies. After installing a micro computer into Saranya's brain, he tested it out by having her look to due north and then due south to ensure that the internal compass was working right.

"Navigation, check," Blaster said, going through a checklist as Brom prepared the saddle. "Wings, check. Body, check. Legs, check. Fuel levels…uh, you did eat recently, right Sara?"

_Check_, Sara said, sustaining a belch.

"Preflight checklist complete," Blaster said. After Brom had finished with Sara's saddle, Blaster got on. He pulled out his bow. "Ready when you are."

"Remember to grip with your knees and guide her with your thoughts," Brom said. "And stay as flat as you can on her back. Nothing will go wrong if you don't panic."

"I've been in the air before, Brom," Blaster said. "Just haven't been on dragon-back yet." He tightened the bands around his legs. Once he was happy with their tightness, he said, "Clear for take-off."

With a powerful beat of her wings, she jumped into the air, and began to rise rapidly with an additional three strokes. She flew steadily and effortlessly. _Bank to vector 1-9-0, 32 degrees, keep climb angle at 22 degrees,_ Blaster instructed, and she did just that. The river below shrank to a wispy grey line, and the clouds floated around them. _Level off at 6-3 hundred feet._

Sara leveled off high above the plains, the trees below no more than specks next to the grey line that was the river. The air was thin, chilly, and perfectly clear. "Beautiful," Blaster mused. Sara suddenly tilted and rolled completely around. Once everything was level, Blaster muttered, "I don't believe I told you to perform a downward corkscrew."

_It is one of the basic maneuvers I will do if I am attacked in the air,_ Sara replied.

_Okay, then,_ Blaster replied. _Switching to attack and defensive maneuvers._ Sara growled. _I will tell you where enemies are, and you will go there. Alright?_ Sara growled again. _Incoming bogie at 1-5-0, level 2-4 hundred. Deck: 1-3 hundred. Clear to engage._ Sara banked, then dove down to the level that Blaster had indicated. She swiped at an invisible enemy, and then disengaged, content that she had defeated it. _Two bogies on our six. Weapons active. Evasive maneuvers._

Sara started banking, then began to climb into the air. She began to dive and just narrowly missed striking Saphira, who had just joined in, doing a downward corkscrew to avoid getting nailed by Sara. Sara pulled out of her dive just low enough to blow over Brom, causing the horses to nervously prance around. Once they had climbed back up, they hooked up with Saphira. _Disengage tracking computers. We're done for the day._

"Hey, Eragon!" Blaster shouted over the wind. "You doing okay over there?"

"Not entirely," Eragon admitted.

"Just relax," Blaster said.

_If you want to see how I see things, you should relax,_ Sara said.

"Easy for you to say," Eragon replied.

Blaster shook his head, then relaxed. Sara's mind soon tugged at his, and he found himself being pulled from his body. His vision blurred and distorted, but he soon found himself looking through Sara's eyes. Everything was slightly distorted, as any dark colors were more muted, but the brighter colors stood out. Blaster felt the joy coming from Sara, and loved this freedom to go anywhere she wanted in the sky. When they were at a high enough altitude, Sara looked back at Blaster. He saw himself, a blank expression on his face. Though he could see himself, he still felt when Sara strained against the air, and when she'd use updrafts to rise.

Blaster allowed Sara's mind and his own mind to merge until there was no distinction between the two. They dove together, their tail whipping in the air. As the ground got closer, they opened their wings and pulled out of the dive and into an impressive loop before climbing again. It was then that their minds separated.

_That was absolutely amazing_, Blaster said. _Remind me to do that again sometime._

She grinned.

They all talked to each other, after Eragon and Saphira had likewise split apart. They exchanged thoughts and talked as if they were old friends catching up. The dragons would describe how they used hills and trees for cover, and how they could hide themselves in the shadows of the clouds. They all scouted the trail ahead for Brom, which proved to be more arduous than Eragon expected. They needed to be very close to the path to see it, risking detection.

Around midday, Blaster could hear an annoying buzz, and thought someone else was infiltrating his mind. He threw up a barrier around most of his thoughts, but left his ability to communicate open.

_Who is this?_

_ Brom_, a voice replied. Relieved, Blaster lowered his barriers.

_Tell me you have something interesting to report,_ Blaster said.

_I'll tell the two of you once Eragon lets me in,_ Brom replied.

_Give me just a minute, and you will be able to chat with him_, Blaster replied. He grew a mischievous grin, then told Sara to fly slightly into Saphira's path to distract Eragon. It worked, and Blaster could hear Brom yelling at Eragon. Finally, Brom showed them where he was, and both Saphira and Sara dove out of the skies. Eragon strung his bow and drew several arrows. Blaster merely strung his bow, not even attempting to withdraw his pistols.

When they had reached Brom, he was standing in a clearing, waving his arms. They both jumped off their dragons when they had landed, Eragon expecting trouble. The horses were tied to a tree on the edge of the clearing, but Brom was otherwise alone. Eragon trotted over and asked, "What's wrong?"

Brom muttered a few curses, then said, "Don't ever block me out like that again. It's hard enough for me to reach you without having to fight to make myself heard."

"Sorry," Eragon said. Blaster showed up seconds later, declaring a clear perimeter.

Brom snorted. "I was farther down the river when I noticed the Ra'zac's tracks had ceased. I backtracked until I found where they had disappeared. Look at the ground and tell me what you see."

Blaster spotted it almost instantaneously. Numerous Ra'zac prints overlapped each other, and Eragon leaned in for a closer look at them. The tracks were only a few days old. Atop the tracks were long and thick gouges torn into the ground. They looked familiar to Eragon, but it was Blaster who spoke, recognizing them immediately.

"Looks to me like they have used this location to take off," Blaster said. He knelt to investigate further. "The only creature I know of that can make these gouges are dragons. But I would highly doubt that the Ra'zac would be worthy enough to ride on a dragon. They wouldn't consent. So, unless they are very skilled at taking flight themselves, are able to make even their tracks invisible, or they are hiding right here, they must have flown off on another flying steed of some sort."

"Very observant," Brom said.

"I am very good at deciphering tracks," Blaster said. _Again, ninja training at work. Thanks, Yuffie._

"However, if they do have flying steeds, that makes it a might impossible to find them," Brom added.

"What do we do?" Eragon asked. "Saphira and Sara can't track them through the sky."

"Even if they could, we'd leave Brom in the dust," Blaster added, more to himself than to anyone else.

"There is no easy solution to this riddle," Brom said. "Let's have lunch while we think on it. Perhaps inspiration will strike us as we eat."

Blaster pulled out some of the meat he had left from Horst. They ate in silence, staring into the empty sky. Blaster thought about his next mission, finding Char and getting out of this reality next chance he got. His biggest issue, however, was trying to find out where his best friend and fiancé was being held. Blaster thought of every possible way to get to her, but none he was sure would work.

"I have considered every trick I know, every word of power within my grasp, and all the skills we have, but I still don't see how we can find the Ra'zac," Brom said, finishing his meal. Eragon slumped against Saphira in despair. "Saphira or Sara could show themselves at some town. That would draw the Ra'zac like flies to honey. But it would be extremely risky."

"You got that right," Blaster said. "If the Ra'zac did come, they'd most likely bring soldiers with them. The king himself might be interested enough to come himself, and that would mean certain death for all of us."

"So now what?" Eragon asked, throwing his hands up. He began to talk to Saphira.

_Got any ideas?_ Blaster asked to Sara.

_Not really,_ she replied.

"Well, this is all up to you two," Brom said. "It is your crusade."

Eragon ground his teeth in anger and stalked away towards the trees.

* * *

><p><strong>Will they pick up the trail? Why are they unable to find Char? Most importantly, what happens next? Find out next chapter in <em>Free Riders.<em> New chapters expected Tuesdays and Fridays.**

If there is anyone who does not like the new Tuesday/Friday layout, feel free to suggest a better time table. Otherwise R&R. And please, no flamers.


	18. Ch17: The Clue

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 17: The Clue

Eragon huffed away towards the trees. Before he reached them, his foot struck something hard. Blaster could hear it from where he sat, but said nothing. About a minute later, Eragon returned with a metal flask with a leather strap long enough to sling the flask over one's shoulder. On the flask was a silver insignia, the same insignia as that of the Ra'zac.

"Look what I found," Eragon said. Brom took the flask and examined it. He poured a little bit of the clear liquid into the cap, and a cloying smell filled the air, similar to the smell that emanated from Garrow's farm, though Blaster had barely noted it. Blaster was about to put his finger in when Eragon warned, "Watch out, it'll burn—"

"Our skin, I know," Brom said. Blaster quickly withdrew his hand as if he had touched an electrified pole. He managed to save his finger. "And I suppose you went ahead and poured it all over your hand." He noticed Eragon's finger, a patch of skin eaten away. "Your finger? Well, at least you showed some sense enough not to drink it. Only a puddle would have been left of you."

"That's rather enjoyable," Blaster said. "Do you know what it is?"

"Oil from the petals of the Seithr plant," Brom said, "which grows on a small island in the frigid northern seas. In its natural state, the oil is used for preserving pears—it makes them lustrous and strong. But when specific words are spoken over the oil, along with a blood sacrifice, it gains the property to eat any flesh. That alone wouldn't make it special, as there are plenty of acids that can dissolve sinew and bone, except that this leaves everything else untouched. You can dip anything into the oil and pull it out unharmed, unless it was once part of an animal or human. This makes it the weapon of choice for torture and assassination. It can be stored in wood, slathered on the point of a spear, or dripped onto sheets so that the next person to touch them will be burned. There are a myriad of uses for it, limited only by your ingenuity. Any injury caused by it is always slow to heal. It's rather rare and expensive, especially this converted form."

"And this is what they used on Garrow?" Blaster asked.

"Very likely," Brom said.

"Well, I'll be darned," Blaster said. "They just went from manslaughter to murder in the first degree."

"I wonder why the Ra'zac left it behind if it's so valuable," Eragon mused.

"It must have slipped off when they flew away," Brom said.

"But why not come back for it?" Eragon asked. "I doubt that the king will be pleased if they lost it."

"No, he won't," Brom replied. "But, he would be even more displeased if they delayed bringing him news of you two. In fact, if the Ra'zac have reached him by now, you can be sure that the king has learned of your names. And that means we will have to be much more careful when we go into towns. There will be notices and alerts about you posted throughout the Empire." Eragon paused to think.

"This oil, how rare is it exactly?" the boy asked.

"Like diamonds in a pig trough," Brom replied. He amended himself a few seconds later, saying, "Actually, the normal oil is used by jewelers, but only those who can afford it."

"So, there is ample trade in this oil?" Blaster asked.

"Perhaps one, maybe two," Brom admitted.

"And the cities along the coast," Blaster added. "Do they not keep shipping records?"

"Of course they do," Brom said, his eyes brightening. "If we could get to those records, they would tell us who brought the oil south, and where it went from there."

"And the record of the Empire's purchases will tell us where the Ra'zac live!" Eragon concluded. "I don't know how many people can afford this oil, but it shouldn't be hard to figure out which ones aren't working for the Empire."

"Genius!" Brom exclaimed, smiling. "I wish I had thought of this years ago; it would have saved me many headaches. The coast is dotted with numerous cities and towns where ships can land. I suppose that Teirm would be the place to start, as it controls most of the trade." Brom paused. "The last I heard, my old friend Jeod lives there. We haven't seen each other for many years, but he might be willing to help us. And because he's a merchant, it's possible that he has access to those records."

"Well, then it's settled," Blaster said. "We head to Teirm. But there is just one thing. How do we get there?"

"We'll have to go southwest until we reach a high pass in the Spine. Once on the other side, we can head up the coast to Teirm," Brom said.

"Can we reach the pass within a week?" Eragon asked.

"Easily," Brom assured. "If we angle away from the Ninor and to our right, we might be able to see the mountains by tomorrow."

Eragon went over to Saphira and mounted her. "I'll see you at dinner, then." He took off with Saphira, leaving Brom and Blaster on the ground.

"I will ride as well," Blaster said, "but I will ride Samson tomorrow. What better way to continue my training in the ancient language. It'll give Sara enough time to hunt."

"I feel it is a good idea," Brom said.

_I agree_, Sara said. Blaster smiled before he climbed up onto the silver dragon. She took to the skies seconds later.

That night, Eragon was pleased that his legs didn't hurt, the saddle protecting him from Saphira's scales. The nightly fight lacked energy, with everyone preoccupied with the day's events. By the time Eragon and Blaster finished, Eragon's arms burned, the result of Zar'roc's weight.

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

Char woke from her meditations around nightfall. She opened her eyes to see the red-eyed redhead staring at her from the other side of the bars. She groaned to herself as she slowly stood up. _How many times must this stupid Shade try to get answers out of me? _she wondered to herself. The Shade hadn't been gentle in his interrogation, her arms were bruised and her clothes were ripped.

"What do you want now?" Char said, coldly.

"Your true name," the Shade replied. "And where we can find the elven city, Ellesmera."

"It's Charlotte Amaturie," Char replied. Her anger was rising. "At least until my fiancé finally sets a date for our marriage."

The Shade smirked and laughed sharply. "That isn't it. And you do have an interesting mind, my dear." He thought to him self. "Perhaps I should be more direct. What is your name?"

"I told you," Char replied. "Char…"

"No, not that one!" The Shade hissed. "If you were any dumber, you'd have rocks for brains."

"I see," Char replied. Reluctantly, she caved. "Ga santora vedron. The super woman."

"Interesting," the Shade mused.

"And yours?" Char asked.

"My name doesn't matter to one in your position," the Shade replied. "Not that it would mean anything to you."

"Bah," Char laughed. "I doubt I would find much use in your rarely used name. What I mean is I want to know your name. Your everyday name. I want to know who I am dealing with, especially since I never asked when you first interrogated me."

"We are Durza," the Shade replied.

"Nice to meet you, Durza," Char said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "Now, if you will excuse me, I would like to get some rest before your friends start torturing me again about a place I have no clue about."

"But I will be the one to…interrogate you tomorrow morning," Durza replied. "But, I have one question right now. What language did you speak in, because I am sure that 'Ga' is not a word in the ancient language."

"It is of an ancient language that you would not understand," Char said. "Oh, it has a name, but such a name spoken would cause grown men to weep, and devils like your self would cower in fear before it. I will give you the name, but its true name is hidden, only known by the keeper of the language."

"And what is its name?" Durza demanded.

"Torillian," Char said. "And you won't find the keeper of the language, because he died long ago, in a place far from your gazing eyes."

"We shall talk again tomorrow," Durza said. "Once you get what little rest you can. I would rather enjoy learning where the elven cities are, and discussing your name in much greater detail."

When Durza left, Char went over to her cot, muttering, "Good luck." She wasn't happy with the situation, but resigned herself to continue trying alternate means of getting out. Since day one, she'd been trying to contact Alice, only to receive static on her wrist computer. In fact, almost everything on her wrist computer didn't work. Thinking it was the magic of the world interfering, she lied down on her cot.

_Where ARE you, Blaster?_ Char asked herself. _Arya and I are getting to our last legs._ She looked over to the next cell where Arya, the elf she was with, lay. _She's doing worse than I, but that's only because of my accelerated healing. We might not make it to see the end of the year._ Then, she thought about one of the active programs on her wrist computer. She activated the program, and calmed herself.

"First Officer's log: 22 April 2030. I have lost track of how many days I have been incarcerated here. Wherever here is. The Shade leader has learned one of my many other names, but, thankfully, not the one that will give the Shade power over me. _If_ he can gain power over me. Torillian languages might be a little hard to pronounce. As for the other programs on my wrist computer, I believe the magic is still interfering with communications, and I have yet to contact Alice or Blaster. I will continue to try in the hopes that the interference can be removed. Further interrogations tomorrow. If anyone should find this recording, find Blaster and give it to him. He'll know what to do. End Log."

She relaxed a bit and started to drift off to sleep, waiting for the day when Blaster would come to rescue her.

**_FRFRFRFRFR_**

A couple of days after they changed their course, Brom, Eragon, Saphira, Sara, and Blaster had managed to arrive in the foothills of the Spine. They followed the mountains south, Eragon ecstatic that he had a comfortable boundary next to him. Three days after that, they came upon a wide road rutted by the wheels of wagons.

"This is the main road between the capital, Urû'baen, and Teirm," Brom said. "It's widely used and a favorite route for merchants. We have to be more cautious. This isn't the busiest time of the year, but a few people are bound to be using the road."

The days continued to pass quickly as they searched for the mountain pass. Boredom was almost non existent, as Brom kept the two busy between the elven language, practicing magic, and caring for their dragons. Eragon soon learned to hunt using magic, shooting small rocks like bullets. They never missed. The resulting kills were roasted over the fire each night. After dinner, Blaster and Eragon would spar with their swords and, in some instances, fists.

The long days and the strenuous workload had stripped Eragon of his excess fat. His arms became corded, and lean muscles rippled his tanned skin. It amused Blaster, who was already lean, and rippling with muscles, that Eragon had grown so much in so little time.

When they finally reached the pass, they saw a river rushing out of it, cutting across the road.

"This is the Toark," Brom explained. "We'll follow it to the sea."

"How can we?" Eragon laughed. "Especially if it flows out of the Spine in _this_ direction. It won't end up in the ocean unless it doubles back on itself."

Brom twisted his ring and said, "Because in the middle of the mountain rests the Woadark Lake. A river flows from each end of it and both are called the Toark. We see the eastward one now. It runs to the south and winds through the brush until it joins Leona Lake. The other goes to the sea."

After two days in the Spine, they came to a rock ledge from which they could clearly see out of the mountains. Eragon noticed how the land flattened in the distance, and groaned at the many leagues they still had to traverse. Blaster was just as happy, wishing he could just run there, but neglecting to do so in order to keep his superhuman speed secret.

"Down there and to the north lies Teirm," Brom said, pointing. "It's an old city. Some say it's where the elves first landed in Alagaësia. Its citadel has never fallen, nor have its warriors ever been defeated." He spurred Snowfire forward and left the ledge.

It took until noon the next day to descend through the foothills and arrive at the other side of the Spine. Here, the forested land quickly leveled out. Without mountains to hide behind, Saphira and Sara flew close to the ground, using every hollow, dip, and gulley in the land to conceal themselves.

Beyond the forest, the air changed, the countryside became covered in a soft turf and heather that their feet sank into. Moss grew on the stones and branches, as well as along the banks of streams that laced the ground. Pools of mud pocketed the road where horses had trampled the dirt. It wasn't long before the human trio were splattered with grime.

"Why is everything green here?" Eragon asked, curiously. "Do they have winter here?"

"Yes, but the season is mild," Brom replied. "Fog and mist roll in from the sea and keep everything alive. Some find it to their liking, but to me, it's dreary and depressing."

They set up camp that night on the driest spot they managed to find. While eating, Brom commented, "You should ride your horses until we reach Teirm. It's likely that we'll meet other travelers now that we are out of the Spine, and it will be better if the two of you were with me. An old man traveling alone will raise suspicion, especially if he's bringing along two horses in full tack. With you two at my side, no one will ask questions. Besides, I don't want to show up at the city and have someone who saw me on the trail wondering where you suddenly came from."

"Will we use our own names?" Eragon asked. Brom thought for a moment.

"We won't be able to deceive Jeod," Brom said. "He already knows my name, and I think I trust him with yours. But to everyone else, I will be Neal, and you, Eragon, will be my nephew Evan."

"And I will be the son of a family friend, Brian," Blaster said.

"And, if our tongues slip," Brom continued, "and we give ourselves away, it probably won't make a difference, but I don't want our names in anyone's heads. People have an annoying habit of remembering things they really shouldn't."

* * *

><p><strong>Where is Jeod's house? How much longer before Blaster heads off in search of Char? Will they finally find the Ra'zac? Find out next time on <em>Free Riders.<em>**

I have received word that Blaster seems to be too overpowered in certain respects. To set the record straight on a number of things, 1) Blaster doesn't sleep at night, but he still needs to rest and restore his energy, so instead of sleeping, he meditates. 2) Blaster is an alien who was born on earth, leaving to travel the universe. He's had some education, but not to the point of knowing everything at all times. 3) Blaster is a skilled swordsman because he trained to be one both in his realm and in some parallel realms. 4) The accelerated healing is a side-effect of the alien gene both he and Char have (Since I know she'll probably get crap now because she is quoted to be having said ability), but it doesn't protect them fully, and they can die, but they try to avoid it at all costs, like every other living being.

That being said, please R&R, and no destructive criticism please. Thanks.


	19. Ch18: Frogs in Tierm

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 18: Frogs in Teirm

Saphira and Sara saw Teirm before the others. They wouldn't see it until a westerly breeze blew the heavy fog and mist out of the way. It was situated on the edge of the shimmering sea, proud ships with their sails furled in the docks. The rumbling of the surf could be heard in the distance.

Surrounding the city was a white wall, one hundred feet tall and thirty feet thick. Rows of rectangular slits for the archers lined the wall, and a walkway atop the wall accommodated the soldiers and watchmen. Two portcullises broke the walls smooth surface, one of them facing the western sea, while the other opened south to the road. A large citadel rose above the wall, situated in the northeaster section of the city. In the highest tower of the stone citadel was a lighthouse lantern that gleamed brilliantly in the sunlight. The only thing visible over the fortifications was the castle.

At the gate to the road stood two guards, each holding a pike loosely. Above them, a yellow pendant flapped in the wind, bearing the outline of a roaring lion and an arm holding a lily blossom.

"Our first test," Blaster said. "Let's hope that they haven't gotten word of us from the Empire and won't detain us. Whatever happens, don't panic or act suspicious. It'd be a dead give-away." Satisfied Eragon had heard him, he tuned his attention to Sara. _We're going in. Find a place to hide and stay there, please._

_Sticking your nose where it doesn't belong?_ Sara asked, sourly.

_Have I ever led you astray?_ Blaster retorted. _I'll have you know that I singlehandedly took out at least ten-thousand mooks in one battle. I think I can hold my own. Besides, we have advantages others don't necessarily have._

_Just be careful,_ Sara said. _I don't want to end up having you come out with a whole company of soldiers behind you._

_ We'll try our best, but I cannot guarantee anything,_ Blaster said. _Especially since my precognitive abilities seemed to have shut themselves down,_ he added to himself.

The trio rode up to the gates, trying to appear as casual as possible. As they neared the gates, Eragon asked in amazement, "How big is this place?"

"Far larger than any city you have seen," Brom said.

At the entrance, the guards stood much straighter and barred the entrance with their pikes. "Wha's yer name?" one of the guards asked in a bored tone.

"I'm called Neal," Brom said in a wheezy voice. He was slouching over to one side, and he had an expression of happy idiocy on his face.

"And who's th' other ones?" the guard asked.

"Well, I wus gettin' to that. This'ed be m'nephew Evan, and our fam'ly friend, Brian."

"And yer business here?"

"He's meet'n an old friend, sir," Blaster said, deepening his voice slightly and throwing in a British accent. "We came along to ensure he didn' get lost, if yeh get what I'm sayin'. Ain't as young as he once was, and had a bit too much sun in his youth. Got a touch o' the brain fever, ya know." Brom bobbed his head pleasantly.

"Right. Go on through," the guard said, waving his hand and dropping the pike. "Just make sure he doesn't cause any trouble."

"Oh, he won't" Eragon promised, his voice dropped into a thick accent. He urged Cadoc forward, and they rode into Teirm, the horses' hooves clacking on the cobblestone street. Once far enough away from the guards, Brom sat up.

"Touch of brain fever, eh?" he growled to Blaster.

"Couldn't let you have all the fun," Blaster replied. "Besides, it worked, didn't it?"

Brom harrumphed and looked away. Blaster smirked a little bit, then hid his smile as he looked upon the houses. They were all grim and foreboding, with small, deep windows letting in only sparse rays of light. Narrow doors were recessed into the buildings. The rooftops were flat, with the exception of the metal railings, and all were covered in slate shingles. The buildings were no more than one story, but they progressively gained floors as they went towards the citadel. The tallest, naturally, were the tallest of all the buildings, but they still stood short of the fortress.

"Looks like this place is geared up for war," Blaster commented.

"Teirm has a history of being attacked by pirates, Urgals, and other enemies," Brom nodded. "It has long been a center of commerce. There will always be conflict where riches gather in abundance. The people here are forced to take extraordinary measures to keep themselves from being overrun. It also helps that Galbatorix gives them soldiers to defend their city."

"Why are some of the houses higher than others?" Eragon asked, looking at the houses.

"Look at the citadel," Brom said, pointing. "It has an unobstructed view of Teirm. If the outer wall were breached, archers would be posted on all the roofs. Because the houses in the front, by the outer wall, are lower, the men farther back could shoot over them without fear of hitting their comrades."

"Also, it appears they know the concept of high-ground advantage," Blaster said. "I suppose, if the enemy were to perch their own archers on the roofs of the houses they capture, it would be much easier to shoot them down. Tactical advantage." Brom nodded in agreement.

"I've never seen a city planned like this," Eragon said in wonder.

"Nor have I," Blaster added. "But, I would assume that some sort of planning had to go into this."

"You would be correct," Brom said. "It was done after Teirm was nearly burned down in a pirate raid."

As they continued up the street, people would look at them, but didn't give much interest. _Looks normal,_ Blaster thought. His opinion changed to slightly normal when a large man shouldered past them with a sword hanging from his waist. Children weren't playing in the streets, people bore hard expressions, and many houses had been deserted, weeds growing from the cracks in the stone-covered yard.

"Looks like they've had trouble," Eragon said.

"The same as everywhere else," Brom replied grimly. "We have to find Jeod." They led their horses to a tavern across the street and tied them at the hitching post. "The Green Chestnut…wonderful," Brom muttered, looking at the sign above them before entering the building.

Instantly, Blaster felt a little unsafe inside these walls. A small fire smoldered in the fireplace, not a single person bothering to throw another log onto it. A few people in the corners sat with sullen expressions, each one sipping their various drinks. In the far table sat a man with two missing fingers and he was eyeing his twitching stumps. The bartender looked about as good as the sign over the door, his lips had a cynical twist. He was busy polishing a glass, even though it was broken.

Brom leaned against the bar and asked, "Do you know where we can find a man called Jeod?" Eragon stood at his side, fiddling with the tip of his bow by his waist. The bow was slung over his back. Blaster was right next to Eragon, his hands resting on the grips of his pistols.

"Now, why would I know something like that?" the bartender said in an overly loud voice. "Do you think I keep track of the mangy louts in this forsaken place?" Blaster lazily unsnapped the retaining strap on his holsters, and Eragon winced as all eyes turned toward them.

"Could you be enticed to remember?" Brom asked, smooth as ever. He slid a few coins onto the bar.

"Could be," the bartender said as he put down the glass. He then added, in a low voice, "But my memory takes a great deal of prodding." Brom's face soured, but he slid a few more coins onto the bar, causing the bartender to suck on one side of his cheek in thought. "All right, he finally said, reaching for the coins. He wasn't able to touch them when the man missing two fingers called out from his table.

"Gareth, what in th' blazes do you think you're doing?" the man said. "Anyone on the street could tell them where Jeod lives. What are you charging them for?"

Brom swept the coins back into his purse as Gareth shot a venomous look at the man at the table. The bartender turned his back on them and began polishing his broken glass again. Brom went over to the stranger and said, "Thanks. The name's Neal. This is Evan, and Brian."

The man raised a mug to them. "Martin, and of course you met Gareth." The man's voice was rough and deep.

"Of course, sir," Blaster said, throwing on his deeper, British accent again.

"Go ahead and sit down," Martin said, gesturing to some empty chairs. "I don't mind." Eragon moved the chair he was going to sit in against the wall, facing the door. Martin raised an eyebrow, but decided not to comment.

"You just saved me a few crowns," Brom said.

"My pleasure," Martin replied. "Can't blame Gareth, though. Business hasn't been doing so well lately." He scratched his chin before continuing. "Jeod lives on the west side of town, right next to Angela, the herbalist. Do have business with him?"

"You could say that," Blaster said.

"Well, he won't be interested in buying anything. He just lost another ship a few days ago."

Brom seemed interested in this bit of news. "What happened? It wasn't Urgals, was it?"

"No," Martin replied. "They've left the area. No one's seen 'em in almost a year. Seems they've all gone south and east. But they aren't the problem. You see, most of our business is through sea trade, as I'm sure you know. Well," he took a swig from his mug, "starting several months ago, someone's been attacking our ships. It's not the usual piracy because only the ships that carry the goods of certain merchants are attacked."

"Now, that's odd," Blaster commented. "And I suppose that Jeod's vessels are amongst those under attack?"

"Correct, young man," Martin said. "It's gotten so bad that no captain will accept those merchants' goods, which makes life difficult around here. Especially because some of 'em run the largest shipping businesses in the Empire. They're being forced to send goods by land. It has driven costs painfully high, and their caravans don't always make it to their destination."

"Have you any idea who's responsible?" Brom asked. "There must be witnesses."

"No one survives the attacks," Martin replied. "Ships go out, then disappear. They're never seen again." He leaned forward and half-whispered, "The sailors are saying it's magic." He winked, then leaned back.

"What do you think?" Brom asked. He seemed to be worried by the news. Martin merely shrugged.

"I dunno," he said. "And I don't think I will unless I'm unfortunate enough to be on one of those captured ships."

"Are you a sailor?" Eragon asked.

"No," Martin snorted. "Do I look like one? The captains hire me to defend their ships against pirates. And those thieving scum haven't been very active lately. Still, it's a good job."

"But a dangerous one," Brom said. Martin merely shrugged, then downed the last of his beer.

Brom, Eragon, and Blaster took their leave and headed toward the west side of the city. Here, the buildings were more ornate, clean, and rather large. People here seemed to walk with authority, causing both Blaster and Eragon to feel a bit out of place. It wasn't hard to find the herbalist's shop, as it had a cheery sign over it. A short, curly-haired woman sat by the door, a frog in one hand, a pad and quill in the other. Blaster and Eragon assumed this must be Angela. On either side of the store was a house.

"Which house do you think is his?" Eragon asked.

Brom thought for a moment, then said, "Let's find out." He approached the woman. "Could you tell us which house Jeod lives in?"

"I could." She continued writing.

"Will you tell us?"

"Yes." She fell silent, but her pen scribbled faster than ever. The frog in her hand croaked and looked at them. Eragon and Brom waited uncomfortably, but she didn't say anything. Blaster had a smirk on his face. Eragon was about to blurt something out when Angela looked up. "Of course I'll tell you! All you have to do is ask. Your first question was whether or not I _could_ tell you, and the second was if I _would_ tell you. But you never actually put the question to me."

"Stand aside, gentlemen," Blaster said. "I've had experience with this. Allow a professional to do his work." He approached the woman so she could see him and asked, "In which house does Jeod live? Also, why are you holding a frog?"

"Ah, finally," she said. "Now we're getting somewhere. Jeod is on the right. And as for the frog, he's actually a toad."

"To this day, I still can't tell the difference between a frog and a toad," Blaster muttered.

"I'm trying to prove that toads don't exist," she continued, "that there are only frogs."

"How can toads not exist if you have one in your hand right now?" Eragon asked. "Besides, what good will it do to prove that there are only frogs?"

The woman shook her head vigorously, causing her curls to bounce around. "No, no, you don't understand. If I prove toads don't exist, then this is a frog and never was a toad. Therefore the toad you see now doesn't exist. And," she raised a finger, "if I can prove there are only frogs, then toads won't be able to do anything bad, like make teeth fall out, cause warts, and poison or kill people. Also, witches won't be able to use any of their evil spells because, of course, there won't be any toads."

"Well, that's rather interesting," Brom said. "I would like to hear more, but we have to meet with Jeod."

"Of course," she said, waving her hand and returning to her studies.

Once out of the herbalist's earshot, Eragon stated, "She's crazy!"

"It's possible," Blaster said.

"But, you never know," Brom added. "She might discover something useful, so don't criticize. Who knows, toads might really be frogs."

"And my shoes are made of gold," Eragon retorted.

"That could be arranged," Blaster commented. Eragon rolled his eyes.

They stopped before a door with a wrought-iron knocker and a marble doorstep. They approached the door, then Brom took the handle of the knocker and banged three times.

* * *

><p><strong>Have they found the right house? Will they get their answers? When will toads be revealed to be frogs? Find out next time on <em>Free Riders.<em> Updating Tuesdays and Fridays now.**

Please R&R, only constructive criticism please. Thanks.


	20. Ch19: Old Friends

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 19: An Old Friend

No one answered the door after Brom's knocking. Eragon was the only one who felt slightly foolish.

"Perhaps this is the wrong house," Eragon said. "Let's try the other one."

Brom ignored him and knocked again, pounding loudly. Again no one answered. Eragon turned around in exasperation, but turned back around as someone approached the door. A young, pale woman with light blonde hair cracked it open a tiny bit. Here eyes were puffy, and Blaster sensed she had been crying, yet her voice was perfectly steady.

"Yes, what do you want?" the woman asked.

"Does Jeod live here?" Brom asked. The woman dipped her head a little, yet opened the door no further.

"Yes," she said, "he is my husband. Is he expecting you?"

"No, but it is important that we talk with him," Brom said.

"He is very busy."

"We have traveled far. It's very imperative that we see him."

"He is busy," the woman said, her face hardening.

Brom bristled, but kept his voice pleasant. "Since he is unavailable, would you please give him a message?" Her lips twitched, but she nodded in consent. "Tell him that a friend from Gil'ead is waiting outside."

The woman seemed a little suspicious, but said, "Very well," and abruptly closed the door. Her footsteps could be heard receding.

"That was very polite," Eragon commented.

"Keep your opinions to yourself, Eragon," Blaster snapped.

"And let me do the talking," Brom added. He crossed his arms and tapped his fingers. Eragon simply clamped his mouth shut, and looked away.

The door suddenly flew open so fast, Blaster feared it might fall off its hinges. A tall man burst out of the house, wearing expensive clothes that were rumpled. His gray hair was wispy, and he had what appeared to be a mournful face with short eyebrows. A long scar stretched from his temple across his scalp.

At the sight of the trio, his eyes grew wide, and he sagged against the doorframe, speechless. He managed to open his mouth several times, then closed it, as if he were a fish. Finally, words managed to reach the man's mouth, and he asked, softly, "Brom…?"

Brom put a finger to his lips and reached forward to grab the man's arm.

"It's good to see you, Jeod," Brom said. "I'm glad your memory hasn't failed you, but do not use that name. It would be unfortunate if anyone knew I was here."

Jeod looked around wildly, the look of pure shock on his face. "I thought you were dead," he whispered.

"Surprise," Brom said, a lot less enthusiastically than he would have probably said it at a birthday party.

"What happened?" Jeod interrogated. "Why haven't you contacted me before?"

"All things will be explained in good time," Brom assured. "Do you have a place where we can talk safely?"

Jeod hesitated, gazing between Eragon, Brom, and Blaster. Even the alien had trouble reading his face. Finally, he said, "We can't talk here, but if you wait a moment, I'll take you somewhere we can."

"Fine," Brom said. Jeod nodded, then vanished behind the door.

_Another opportunity to learn something about Brom?_ Blaster thought to himself. _Am I going to have to swear not to tell anyone? Again?_

Jeod reappeared a couple of minutes later, a rapier on his belt. An embroidered jacket hung loosely on his shoulders, and a plumed hat adorned his head. Brom cast a critical eye at the finery, but Jeod merely shrugged self-consciously.

Jeod took them through Teirm toward the citadel. Eragon and Blaster led the horses behind the two men. Jeod gestured to their destination, and said, "Risthart, the lord of Teirm, has decreed that all the business owners must have their headquarters in his castle. Even though most of us conduct business elsewhere, we still have to rent rooms there. It's nonsense, I know, but we abide by it anyway to keep him calm. We'll be free of eavesdroppers in there as the walls are thick."

They went through the main gate of the fortress and into the keep. Jeod strode to a side door and pointed to an iron ring. "You can tie the horses there. They won't be bothered." Once the horses had been safely tethered, he opened the door with an iron key, and led them inside.

Jeod snatched a torch from one of the many brackets that adorned the hallway. Eragon touched the wall, only to have his fingers slip on the layer of slime on it. Jeod led them down the hall, stopping before a heavy, wooden door. He unlocked it and ushered them in. This room was adorned by a bearskin rug, stuffed chairs, and full bookshelves covering the walls. Jeod threw some wood into the fireplace and touched it off with the torch. In a matter of seconds, the fire was roaring.

"You, old man," Jeod finally said, turning to Brom, "have some explaining to do."

"Who are you calling an old man?" Brom said, a smile on his face. "Last time I saw you, there was no gray in your hair. Now it looks like it's in the final stages of decomposition."

"And you look the same as you did nearly twenty years ago," Jeod said.

_I've looked the same for almost fifteen,_ Blaster thought to himself. _Damn non-aging side-effect._

"Time seems to have preserved you as a crotchety old man just to inflict wisdom upon each new generation," Jeod continued. "But enough of this! Get on with the story. That's always what you were good at." Eragon's ears seemed to perk up, and he waited ever so patiently for Brom to speak.

The old storyteller relaxed into a chair and pulled out his pipe, like always. He slowly blew a smoke ring that turned green before darting to the fireplace and flying up the chimney.

"Do you remember what we were doing in Gil'ead?" Brom finally said.

"Yes, of course," Jeod said, as if it was an obvious answer. "That sort of thing is hard to forget."

"An understatement, but true none-the-less," Brom said dryly. "When we were…separated, I couldn't find you. In the midst of all the turmoil, I stumbled into a small room. Nothing extraordinary in it—just crates and boxes—but out of curiosity, I rummaged around anyway. Fortune smiled upon me that hour, for I found what we had been looking for." Jeod suddenly looked shocked. "Once they were in my hands, I couldn't wait for you. At any second, I might have been discovered, and all would have been lost. I disguised myself best I could, fled the city and ran to the…" Brom hesitated and glanced at Eragon before saying, "ran to our friends. They stowed them in a vault, for safekeeping, and made me promise to care for whomever received them." Blaster's smile grew as he knew what Brom was talking about. "Until the day when my skills would be needed, I had to disappear. No one could know I was alive—not even you—though it grieved me to pain you unnecessarily. So, I went north and hid in Carvahall."

Eragon's jaw clenched, and Blaster knew he was getting infuriated with Brom's successful attempts to leave him in the dark.

Jeod frowned, then asked, "Then our…friends knew that you were alive all along?"

"Yes"

"I suppose the ruse was unavoidable, though I wish they had told me," Jeod sighed. "Isn't Carvahall farther north, on the other side of the Spine?" Brom inclined his head. For the first time, Jeod inspected Eragon and Blaster. His grey eyes tried to take in every detail. He finally raised an eyebrow and said, "I assume, then, that you are fulfilling your duty."

Brom shook his head. "No, it's not that simple. They were stolen a while ago—or at least that's what I presume, for I haven't received word from our friends, and I suspect their messengers were waylaid—so I decided to find out what I could. Eragon and Blastbone happened to be traveling in the same direction. We have stayed together for some time now."

Jeod looked baffled. "But, if they haven't sent you any messages, how could you know that they were—"

Brom overrode him quickly. "Eragon's uncle was brutally killed by the Ra'zac. They burned his home and nearly caught him in the process. He deserves revenge. Blastbone was staying in Carvahall for a while and he is aware of what has happened. He desires justice. However, they have left us without a trail to follow, and we need help finding them."

"I see," Jeod said. "But why have you come here? I don't know where the Ra'zac might be hiding, and anyone who does wouldn't tell you."

Brom stood, reached into his robes, and pulled out the Ra'zac's flask. He tossed it to Jeod.

"Careful with that," Blaster warned. "There's Seithr oil in there, and it's not the good kind. The Ra'zac were carrying it. Key word being _were_. They lost it by the trail, and we happened to come across it. If we could have access to the shipping records here in Teirm, we can trace the Empire's purchases of the oil, which, in turn, should lead us to the Ra'zac."

Lines appeared on Jeod's face as he thought. A few moments later, he pointed to the bookshelves and said, "Do you see those? They are all records from my business. _One_ business. You have gotten yourself into a project that could take months. There is another, greater problem. The records you seek are held in this castle, but only Brand, Risthart's administrator of trade, sees them on a regular basis. Traders such as myself aren't allowed to handle them. They fear that we will falsify the results, thus cheating the Empire of its precious taxes."

"I can deal with that when the time comes," Brom said. "But we need a few days of rest before we can think about proceeding."

Jeod smiled and said, "It seems that it is my turn to help you. My house is yours, of course. Do you have another name while you are here?"

"Yes," Brom said, "I'm Neal, and the boys are Evan and Brian."

"Eragon," Jeod said, thoughtfully. "You have a unique name. Few have ever been named after the first Rider. In my life, I've read about only three people who were called such." Eragon seemed startled at that comment, surprised Jeod knew the origin of his name. Brom turned to Eragon.

"Could you go check on the horses and make sure they're all right?" the old man asked. "I don't think I tied Snowfire to the ring tightly enough." Eragon shoved himself out of his chair and left the room slamming the door. After a few moments, Brom finally spoke. "Okay, we are able to talk freely now."

"What about him?" Jeod asked, gesturing to Blaster.

"Blaster is trustworthy," Brom replied. "I trust him with my life."

"Trusted me with some of your secrets," Blaster admitted. Jeod nodded. "So, what's so important that we have to leave Eragon in the dark?"

"Our mission in Gil'ead was to take back a couple of dragon eggs that had been stolen from Galbatorix's keep," Jeod said.

"It was our mission for the Varden, ordered by their leader, Ajihad," Brom added. "The two dragon eggs that I recovered after Jeod and I were separated were sapphire and silver."

"So, you stole back Saphira and Sara?" Blaster asked.

"They hatched?" Jeod asked, astonished.

"Yes, they have," Brom said. "Eragon and Blaster aren't only after the Ra'zac, they are under my care and training." He blew another smoke ring from his pipe. "What happened to you after Gil'ead?"

"I moved here to Teirm to become a merchant, and I've been doing that for almost eight years now," Jeod replied.

"I never expected you to become a merchant," Brom said, running his hand through his beard. "After all the time you spent in books. And finding the passageway in that manner! What made you take up trading instead of remaining a scholar?"

"After Gil'ead, I didn't have much taste for sitting in musty rooms and reading scrolls," Jeod said. "I decided to help Ajihad as best I could, but I am no warrior. My father was a merchant as well—you might remember that. He helped me get started. However, the bulk of my business is nothing more than a front to get goods to Surda."

"Yet it sounds like things aren't exactly going as planned," Blaster commented. "Especially if what we heard in the bar is anything to go by."

"Yes," Jeod replied, "none of the shipments have gotten through lately, and Tronjheim is running low on supplies. Somehow, the Empire, or at least I think it's them, has discovered those of us who have been helping to support Tronjheim. But I'm still not convinced that it's the Empire. No one sees any soldiers. I don't understand it. Perhaps Galbatorix hired mercenaries to harass us."

"A likely assumption," Blaster said.

"I heard you lost a ship recently," Brom said.

"The last one I owned," Jeod said, bitterly. "Every man on it was loyal and brave. I doubt I'll ever see them again…The only option I have left is to send caravans to Surda or Gil'ead—which I know won't get there, no matter how many guards I hire—or charter someone else's ship to carry the goods. But no one will take them now."

"How many merchants have been assisting you?" Blaster asked.

"Oh, a good number up and down the seaboard," Jeod said. "All of them have been plagued by the same troubles. I know what you are thinking; I've pondered it many a night myself, but I cannot bear the thought of a traitor with that much knowledge and power. If there is one, we're all in jeopardy. You should return to Tronjheim."

"And take Eragon there?" Brom interrupted. "They'd tear him apart. It's the worst place he could be right now. Maybe in a few months or, even better, a year. Can you imagine how the dwarves will react? And how about Blaster here? Everyone will be trying to influence them, especially Islanzadí. Eragon, Blaster, Saphira, and Sara won't be truly safe in Tronjheim until I at least get them through tuatha du orothrim."

"I could care for myself," Blaster said, "but I see your point."

"And I still have a feeling that they are in need of your power and wisdom," Jeod added.

"Wisdom?" Brom snorted. "I'm just what you said earlier—a crotchety old man."

"Many would disagree."

"Let them," Brom challenged. "I've no need to explain myself. No, Ajihad will have to get along without me. What I'm doing now is much more important. Yet, the prospect of a traitor raises troubling questions. I wonder if that's how the Empire knew where to be…" He trailed off.

"And I wonder why I haven't been contacted about this," Jeod said.

"Maybe they tried," Brom said. "But if there's a traitor…" He paused. "I have to send word to Ajihad. Do you have a messenger you can trust?"

"I think so," Jeod replied. "It depends on where he would have to go."

"I don't know," Brom said, racking his brain. "I've been isolated so long, my contacts have probably died or forgotten me. Could you send him to whoever receives your shipments?"

"Yes, but it'll be risky."

"What isn't these days?" Blaster deadpanned.

"How soon can he leave?" Brom asked.

"He can go in the morning," Jeod said. "I'll send him to Gil'ead. It will be faster. What can he take to convince Ajihad the message comes from you?"

"Here," Brom said, removing his ring, "give your man my ring. And tell him that if he loses it, I'll personally tear his liver out. It was given to me by the queen."

"Aren't you cheery," Jeod commented.

Brom grunted. The trio fell silent for a few seconds.

"We'd better go and meet up with Eragon," Blaster finally said. "He worries me when he's alone. Trouble seems to find him like a magnet."

"Are you surprised?" Jeod asked.

"Not really," Brom replied.

The trio stood up and went to the door, where Eragon was waiting.

* * *

><p><strong>Will they get access to the records? Will Eragon be kept in the dark? When will Blaster get a bead on where Char is? Find out soon in the next chapter of <em>Free Riders.<em>**

****As mentioned before, this story is following the book, often to the letter, until right around Brom's death scene. The plan is, from there, to have Blaster and Sara continue the direction of the story, but Brom and Eragon to go down another path. Needless to say, things could get interesting, and the updates might get restricted to one per week as the whole story deviates.


	21. Ch20: Literacy Exam

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 20: Literacy Exam

"Were the horses all right?" Brom asked as he opened the door back outside.

"Fine," Eragon said. Blaster could tell that he was upset about being kept in the dark. They untied their horses and left the castle. It wasn't long before they were back in the main body of Teirm.

"So, Jeod," Brom said, a cheery voice, "you finally got married. And," he winked slyly, "to a lovely young woman. Congratulations."

Jeod seemed unhappy with the comment. He hunched his shoulders and stared down at the street. "Whether congratulations are in order is debatable right now. Helen isn't very happy."

_I can tell_, Blaster thought to himself.

"Why?" Brom asked. "What does she want?"

"The usual," Jeod said, shrugging. "A good home, happy children, food on the table, and pleasant company. The problem is that she comes from a wealthy family; her father has invested heavily in my business. If I keep suffering these losses, there won't be enough money for her to live the way she's used to." He sighed, then put on a cheery tone. "But, please, my troubles are not your troubles. A host should never bother his guests with his own concerns. While you are in my house, I will let nothing more than an over-full stomach disturb you."

"Thank you," Brom said. "We appreciate the hospitality. Our travels have long been without comforts of any kind. Do you happen to know where we could find an inexpensive shop? All this riding has worn out our clothes." He looked at Blaster's nearly pristine outfit. "Except for his. I haven't found out why."

"I had a magician cast a spell on them to make them resistant to wear and damage," Blaster said. "But I have no idea how long the spell will last."

"Of course," Jeod said. "That's my job." He talked about stores and prices eagerly until his house came into view. He then asked, "Would you mind if we went somewhere else to eat? It might be awkward if you came in right now."

"Whatever makes you feel comfortable," Brom said. Jeod looked relieved.

"Thanks," the merchant said. "Let's leave your horses in my stable."

They did as he suggested, then followed him to a large tavern. Unlike the Green Chestnut, this one was loud, clean, and full of boisterous people. When the main course arrived, which was a stuffed pig, Eragon eagerly dug into the meat, but he especially savored the vegetables and the sweet apples that accompanied it. Blaster too enjoyed the meat and produce, having gone so far with the wild game they had eaten on their journey.

They lingered over the meal for hours as Brom and Jeod swapped stories. The other two didn't mind much. They were warm, lively music could be heard in the background, and there was more than enough food for everyone to have their fill. Blaster especially enjoyed the spirited babble of the tavern.

When they finally exited the tavern, the sun was approaching the horizon. "You guys go ahead; I have to check on something," Eragon said.

"I'll go along, just to make sure he stays out of trouble," Blaster added. He knew that Eragon wanted to check on Saphira, and he felt that he would have to do the same for Sara, lest she feel left out.

"Be careful," Brom agreed absently. "Don't take too long."

"Wait," Jeod said. "Are you going outside Teirm?" Eragon hesitated, then reluctantly nodded. "Make sure you're inside the walls before dark. The gates close then, and the guards won't let you back in until morning."

"I won't be late," Eragon promised. He and Blaster turned around and loped down a side street, towards the outer wall of Teirm. Once outside, they took a breath of fresh air. They called their dragons, both of whom were hiding in roughly the same spot. The dragons guided them off the road and too the base of a mossy cliff surrounded by maple trees. They saw Saphira's head poke out of the trees on the top and waved.

_Find a clearing, and I'll come down to get you._ Sara said.

_Not necessary,_ Blaster replied. He eyeballed the cliff. _I'm going to take the scenic route._

_It's too dangerous._

_Never stopped me before. I'll be up in a jiffy._

Blaster surveyed the cliff face, just as Eragon took off his gloves and began to climb himself. The alien smiled, then started up the cliff himself, several feet to the left of where Eragon started. It wasn't hard to find handholds on the ascent, and he was soon high above the trees. He passed Eragon stopped on a ledge to catch his breath. Unlike Eragon, Blaster was an expert of using as little energy as possible to climb. Within about a minute, Blaster had made it to the top. Eragon, however, was searching for another handhold. He then tried to back down, but was too short to reach his last foothold.

"I could use some help," Eragon said. Saphira began talking to him directly. This left Blaster to sit next to Sara.

_Told ya I'd be up in a jiffy,_ Blaster said with a smirk.

_And Eragon's in a bit of a bind?_ Sara asked.

_You could say that,_ Blaster replied. _He should have started either where I started or several feet to the right of where he did. Only Eragon would find the only dead end. It's a good thing that we're around, or else he'd be screwed._ Seconds later Saphira barreled off the top off the cliff.

_So, is Brom's friend trustworthy?_ Sara asked as Blaster surveyed the landscape. Eragon and Saphira soon reemerged from over the cliffsice

_I'm sure, _Blaster said. _There are forces around us, but we can all try to make the best of it. I fear that we may eventually join the Varden_._ However, the way that they keep their secrets…_

_It is the way of the world,_ Sara replied. _I suppose we must trust in the nature of each individual. Brom is good, and means us no harm. There is no need to fear his plans._

_That much is true,_ Blaster said.

_This finding of the Ra'zac through writing is a strange way of tracking,_ she remarked.

_Hey, when we get hard evidence, there is usually a paper-trail,_ Blaster said. _We're just following it. The things you learn from CSI reruns._

_But would there be a way to use magic to see the records without being inside the room?_

_No idea,_ Blaster replied. _The combination of words needed must include distance, and that would expend energy. But, if there is a way, Brom would be the one to know._

_ I agree_, she said. They lapsed into silence.

_We might have the chance to stay in one place for an extended period of time,_ Blaster said at last.

_And as always, I will be left to wait outside,_ Sara said. Blaster could tell she wasn't pleased.

_For the time being, yes,_ Blaster replied. _But we will soon travel together again._

_ May that day come quickly._

_I hope it will_, Blaster said, hugging Sara's neck. He and Eragon noticed that daylight was fading. _We must go before we are locked out of Teirm for the night. Hunt well, and we shall see each other tomorrow evening._

She spread her wings. _Come, I will take you down._

_My pleasure._ He got onto her scaly back and held on tightly and launched off the cliff, gilded over the trees, then landed on a knoll. He thanked her then, when Eragon drifted down on Saphira, the two ran back to Teirm.

They came into sight of the portcullis just as it was beginning to lower. Calling for them to wait, Blaster grabbed Eragon's hand and pulled him along at a faster pace. They slipped inside seconds before the gateway slammed closed.

"Ya cut that a little close," one of the guards observed.

"It won't happen again, sir," Blaster said in his British accent. Eragon was bent over, attempting to catch his breath. The two wound their way through the city to Jeod's house. A lantern hung outside like a beacon.

A plump butler answered their knock and ushered them in without a word. Tapestries covered the stone walls, and elaborate rugs dotted the polished wood floor, which glowed in the light of three gold candelabra that hung from the ceiling. Smoke drifted through the air and collected above them.

"This way sirs," the butler finally said. "Your friend is in the study."

He led them past a multitude of doors until he came upon one. He opened the door to reveal a room whose walls were covered in books of every shape and size. A fireplace full of burning logs warmed the room and cast a certain glow on everything. Jeod and Brom sat at an oval writing desk, talking amiably. Brom raised his pipe and said in a jovial voice, "Ah, here you are. We were getting worried about you. How was your walk?"

Eragon paused for a moment, then said, "Pleasant, but the guards almost locked us outside the city. And Teirm is so big, we had trouble finding this house."

Jeod chuckled. "When you have seen Dras-Leona, Gil'ead, or even Kuasta, you won't be so easily impressed by this small ocean city. I like it here, though. When it's not raining, Teirm is really quite beautiful."

Eragon turned to Brom as Blaster took a seat nearby. "Do you have any idea how long we'll be here?"

Brom spread his palms upwards as if to shrug. "That's hard to tell. It depends on whether we can get to the records and how long it will take us to find what we need. We'll all have to help as it will be a huge undertaking. I'll talk with Brand tomorrow and see if he'll let us examine the records."

"I don't think I'll be able to help," Eragon said, shifting uneasily.

"Why not?" Blaster asked. "There will be plenty of work for you." Eragon lowered his head.

"I can't read," Eragon said.

"That may be a problem," Blaster admitted.

"You mean Garrow never taught you?" Brom asked in disbelief.

"He knew how to read?" Eragon asked, just as puzzled. Jeod and Blaster watched them with interest.

"Of course he did," Brom snorted. "The proud fool. What was he thinking? I should have realized that he wouldn't have taught you. He probably considered it an unnecessary luxury." He scowled and pulled at his beard.

"Well, this puts a damper on things," Blaster commented.

"Yes, but not irreparably," Brom replied. He turned back to Eragon. "I'll just have to teach you how to read. It won't take long if you put your mind to it."

Eragon winced, probably because Brom's lessons were usually intense and brutally direct, and probably because Eragon was being taught a whole lot in a short amount of time. "I suppose it's necessary," he said ruefully.

"You'll enjoy it," Jeod said. "There is much you can learn from books and scrolls." He gestured to the walls. "These books are my friends and companions. They make me laugh, cry, and find meaning in life."

"It sounds intriguing," Eragon admitted.

"Always the scholar, aren't you?" Brom asked.

"Not anymore," Jeod shrugged. "I'm afraid I've degenerated into a bibliophile."

"A what?" Eragon asked.

"A book lover," Blaster said. He, Jeod and Brom resumed conversing while Eragon skimmed the books. His hand stopped at an elegant book with golden studs. He pulled the book off the shelf, looking at the black leather that was carved with mysterious runes. He opened it, and saw the letters inside were painted in red ink, and the words in one column of script were long and flowing, made with graceful lines and sharp points. He took it over to Brom.

"What is this?" he asked, pointing to the strange writing.

Brom looked at the page closely before his eyebrows raised in surprise. "Jeod, you've expanded your collection. Where did you get this? I haven't seen one in ages."

Jeod strained his neck to see the book. "Ah yes, the _Domia abr Wyrda_. A man came through here a few years ago and tried to sell it to a trader down by the wharves. Fortunately, I happened to be there and was able to save the book, along with his neck. He didn't have a clue what it was."

"It's odd, Eragon, that you should pick up this book, the _Dominance of Fate_," Brom said. "Of all the items in this house, it's probably worth the most. It details a complete history of Alagaësia, starting long before the elves landed here and ending a few decades ago. The book is very rare and is the best of its kind. When it was written, the Empire decried it as blasphemy and burned the author, Heslant the Monk. I don't think any copies still existed. The lettering you asked about is from the ancient language."

"What does it say?" Eragon asked. Brom took a moment to read the passage.

"It is part of an elven poem that tells of the years they fought the dragons," Brom said. "This excerpt tells of Ceranthor, one of their kings, as he rides into battle. The elves love this poem and tell it regularly, though you need three days to do it properly, so that they won't repeat the mistakes of the past. They sometimes sing it so beautifully, it seems the very rocks will cry."

"Wow," Blaster said. "That is one way of telling history."

The hours went by as Eragon browsed the book, but it was soon apparent that everyone was getting drowsy. The butler showed them to their rooms, a cluster of three doors, then left. Brom entered the room on the right.

"Can I talk to you?" Eragon asked.

"You just did, but come in anyway," Brom replied. Eragon and Blaster entered, the latter closing the door behind himself.

"Saphira and I had an idea," Eragon began. He was stopped by Brom, who raised a hand and stopped him. He then pulled the curtains closed.

"When you talk of such things, you would do well to make sure that no unwelcome ears are present."

"Sorry," Eragon said, berating himself for the slip.

"It might be the same as the idea Sara and I had," Blaster said. "Would it be possible to conjure an image of something that isn't visible?"

"What you are talking about is called scrying," Brom said. "It is possible and extremely helpful in some situations, but has major drawbacks." Brom continued to talk about the drawbacks, like how one would only be able to see people, places and things already seen, but not the surroundings. Or how you'd only see black when trying to read a page in a closed book. Of course it expended energy, but it took more to conjure an apparition in thin air than it would on a reflective surface. Thankfully, Brom told them the words they would need in order to use the spell, but made them promise not to use it that night.

Eragon's thoughts turned to Roran, and how he would try to keep him safe. Brom countered this by suggesting that it would not be a good idea to reveal himself, especially by using Roran. Just when Eragon was about to throw in the towel and try his best to help Roran, Brom threw in another thing into the mix: The King himself.

"There is a bright side," Brom said. "The king cannot afford to have a couple of Riders roaming around that he doesn't control. Galbatorix is the only known Rider alive besides yourselves, and he would like another one or two under his command. Before he tries to kill you or Roran, or even your friend Charlotte, Blaster, he will offer you the chance to serve him. Unfortunately, if he ever gets close enough to make that proposition, it will be far too late for you to refuse and still live."

"And that is good?" Blaster asked, weary of the answer.

"It's all that's protecting Roran and Charlotte. As long as the king doesn't know what side you've chosen, he won't risk alienating you by harming them. Keep that firmly in mind. The Ra'zac killed Garrow, but I think it was an ill-considered decision on their part. From what I know of Galbatorix, he wouldn't have approved it unless he gained something from it."

"And how will we be able to deny the king's wishes if he's threatening us with death?" Eragon asked.

Brom sighed, then went to his nightstand to wash up for the night. "Galbatorix wants your willing cooperation," he said. "Without that, you're worse than useless to him. So the question becomes, If you are ever faced with this choice, are you willing to die for what you believe in? For that is the only way you will deny him." The question hung in the air. "It's a difficult question and not one you can answer until you're faced with it. Keep in mind that many people have died for their beliefs; it is actually quite common. The real courage is in living and suffering for what you believe."

* * *

><p><strong>Will the Riders find themselves in a situation of being martyrs? Will they be unable to resist their call from destiny? Where <em>is<em> Char? Find out in the future. But next is an information-gathering chapter of _Free Riders._**

**__**Please R&R. No flames, and a chapter focusing on Saranya will not occur for at least another ten chapters or so (because I am that far ahead in typing, but not exactly improving on my speed of making this stuff up.


	22. Ch21: Fortune Telling

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 21: Fortune Telling

Blaster stirred late in the morning from his meditations, surprised no one had decided to wake him earlier. He washed up, and began combing his hair when he had to take a second look. He had sported a small beard in his travels, and he seemed to have a wild look to him. He let out a low whistle, then used a nearby razor to remove his facial hair.

He left his room with his sword, and he donned a black cloak that he had stolen so long ago from the now non-existant beings who used them, although he left the hood down. Before he had reached the end of the hallway, the butler approached and said, "Sir, Neal left with my master for the castle earlier. He said that you and Evan could do whatever you want today because he will not return until this evening."

Blaster thanked him for the message, then began his exploration of Teirm. He wandered for hours, entering shops he thought were interesting and chatting with people. Because he left some of his pocket change at Jeod's, he would walk out empty handed. It was mid-afternoon when he returned towards Jeod's to pick up some cash when he stopped in front of the herbalist's shop. It was unusual for a store like this to be crammed between expensive houses instead of by the city wall. He looked in the window, and saw them covered in a thick layer of crawling plants inside. He shrugged, and went in.

At first, he saw nothing because of how dark it was. His eyes quickly adjusted to the green hued light that came from the windows. A colorful bird looked at him from its cage with its sharp and powerful beak. The walls were covered in plants, vines clung to the ceiling, obscuring all but the old chandelier, and a large pot on the floor held a single yellow flower. An assortment of mortars, pestles, metal bowls, and a crystal ball the size of a basketball sat on a long counter.

He walked to the counter, avoiding various machinery, rock crates, piles of scrolls, and other unrecognizable objects. Drawers of every size covered the wall behind the counter, with some being no bigger than his pinky finger, while others looked as though he could fit his whole arsenal in there. A gap of about a foot separated it from the shelves.

A pair of red eyes suddenly flashed from the dark space, and a large, fierce cat lept onto the counter. It had a lean body with powerful shoulders and oversized paws. A shaggy mane surrounded its angular face, and its ears were tipped with black tufts. It had white fangs that curved down over its jaw. It sure didn't look like any other cat Blaster had seen. It seemed to inspect him with shrewd eyes, then flicked its tail dismissively.

Blaster held out a hand for the cat to sniff, simultaneously touching its consciousness. He gently tried to tell it that he was a friend.

_You don't have to do that_.

_Well fine,_ Blaster replied. He sat up, then realized what had happened. _Wait, just so that I know, that was you, right?_

_Who else?_ the cat replied. The voice in his head sounded like the cat was male.

_Well, this makes things interesting_, Blaster said. _I thought you were just a normal house cat, but I can plainly tell now that you definitely aren't_. He thought for a second. _What kind of cat are you?_

_I am a werecat,_ the cat replied. _ I would have thought you had heard of us, let alone tell the difference. There are, after all, not many of us left._

_I haven't heard anything, not even stories,_ Blaster replied.

_I see. Well, I haven't heard stories of you, and I actually never knew someone like you existed until you barged in here and ruined my nap._

_My deepest apologies for interrupting your little cat-nap, if you'll pardon the pun,_ Blaster replied.

_I was getting up anyway._ It leapt back onto the counter and began licking its paw. _Oh, and don't touch that wooden rod in that is sitting on the counter. The other Rider wasn't as intelligent as you._

_Eragon was here?_ Blaster asked. He paused. _Never mind. I don't want to know what he did here._ The werecat stretched once more, then jumped back up to where it was sleeping, sat down, tucked its paws under its breast, and closed its eyes, purring. _Just two more questions before you head back to your nap. One, what shall I call you? And two, do you happen to know where Angela might be?_

The cat opened up one of its eyes. _I go by many names. If you are looking for my proper one, you will have to seek elsewhere._ The eye closed. _However, you may call me Solembum._

_Thank you,_ Blaster said. _And my other question?_

"Did someone call for me?" Angela entered her shop from one of the rooms in the back door. She turned to Solembum and she looked startled. "He says you talked with him."

"And that is a big deal because…?" Blaster asked.

"Most of the time Solembum doesn't show himself to customers," Angela replied. "He likes you. In fact, he says you show promise. It sounds like that Eragon kid from earlier." She paused. "Wait a minute, you were the one who asked properly where Jeod lived."

"The one and the same," Blaster said. "Blastbone Clarkson, but you can call me Blaster."

"Odd name," Angela said. "So, is there anything I can help with? Or are you just looking?"

"I was just looking at the moment," Blaster said. "Unless you happen sell healing potions, or energy restoring elixirs. That would be great."

"I don't have any at the moment," Angela said. "But, that's not all I do. I can read your fortune. Would you like to see it?"

Blaster chuckled. "My fortune is pretty convoluted as it is. I fear you might not be able to make heads or tails out of such things. Plus, I'm kinda broke at the moment. Left my cash at Jeod's."

Angela looked at Solembum curiously. "Well…" She gestured at the crystal ball on the counter. "That's only for show anyway. It doesn't do anything. But, I do have…Wait here, I'll be right back." She rushed into her back room again. Blaster could hear her sifting through stuff, saying stuff like "I just used them earlier." She finally came back, breathless, holding a leather pouch, which she set on the counter.

"What are those?" Blaster asked.

"Sit down across from me, and I will explain," Angela replied. Blaster sat on a stool. Solembum's eyes glowed from the gap in the drawers. Angela laid a thick cloth on the counter, then poured a handful of smooth bones, each slightly linger than a finger, onto it. Runes and symbols were carved into each side. "These," she said, touching them gently, "are the knucklebones of a dragon. Don't ask where I got them; it is a secret I won't reveal. But, unlike tea leaves, crystal balls, or even divining cards, these have true power. They do not lie, though understanding what they say is…complicated. If you wish, I will cast and read them for you. But, understand that to know one's fate can be a terrible thing. You must be sure of your decision."

_But I have precognition_, Blaster thought to himself. _Although, with that, I know what may happen. Perhaps knowing what will happen for real might be worth it._ "Why offer this?"

"Because of Solembum," Angela replied calmly. "He may have been a little rude, but the fact he spoke to you makes you special. He _is_ a werecat, after all. I offered to do this for the other two people, besides Eragon, who talked with him. Only the woman agreed to it. Selena was her name. Ah, she regretted it, too. Her fortune was bleak and painful. I don't think she believed it—not at first."

"You don't remember that reading, do you?" Blaster said, a tone of knowledge in his voice.

"It was so long ago that the details have melted into the rest of my memory," Angela sighed. "It isn't as good as it used to be. Besides, I'll not tell you what I do remember. That was for her and her alone. It was sad, though. I've never forgotten the look on her face."

"For someone who looks so young, why complain about your memory?" Blaster asked. "I mean, it's still there, right?"

"I'm flattered," Angela said, "but don't be deceived; I'm much older than I look."

"I still say you don't look a day over thirty," Blaster said.

"The appearance of youth probably comes from having to eat my own herbs when times are lean."

"I hate to brag, but I've been looking like this for fifteen years," Blaster said. "And I probably won't age until I get closer to my time, whenever that may be in the future."

"You jest," Angela said.

"No, I don't," Blaster replied. "I have been looking nineteen for the past fifteen years, and I'm sure that you may find I have an extraordinarily long life."

"Really?"

"Anyway, we've digressed," Blaster said. He thought for a moment, then said, "Whenever you are ready, cast the bones, and let my fortune be laid out upon this table…er, counter."

Angela's face became grave as she picked up the bones in each hand. She spoke in a soundless murmer, eyes closed. Finally, she seemed to shout, "_Manin! Wyrda! Hugin!_" and tossed the bones onto the cloth. They fell jumbled together, gleaming in the faint light.

_Well, that is magic,_ Blaster thought to himself. _That was the ancient language, I'm sure of it. I mean wyrda means fate. Brom even said it last night. So, this is a true telling._

Minutes passed slowly as she studied the bones. She finally leaned back and heaved a long sigh, wiping her brow and pulling out a wineskin. "Do you want some?" she asked, but Blaster declined. She shrugged and drank deeply. "This," she said, wiping her mouth, "has got to be the hardest reading I've ever done. It's harder than Eragon's. You weren't kidding when you said your future was a mess. I was, however, able to wrestle some answers out of it. And I'll start here, since this is the easiest to understand."

Solembum jumped from his resting place to the counter to watch them. Angela pointed at a bone that had a long horizontal line with a circle resting on it. "Infinity or long life," Angela said quietly. "You were right, but I dunno whether this means you will live forever or you will have an extraordinarily long life."

"Told ya," Blaster said.

"However, this one seems to contradict it." She pointed to the one right next to it. "The skull and crossbones. Death. You are destined to die. How that is possible, I don't know."

"I wish I knew," Blaster lied.

"From there, the bones get harder to read, as the rest are in a confused pile." She touched three more bones. "This is something I have only seen once before, and extremely recently too. The wandering path, lightning bolt, and sailing ship lie together. The wandering path shows that you have many choices in your future, some of which you face even now. I see great battles raging around you, some fought for your sake. Mighty powers of this land will struggle to control your will and destiny, as well as the powers from beyond." She looked up. "You are definitely not from around here." She returned to the bones. "However, you do have a countless number of possible futures, all filled with blood and conflict, but one will grant you peace and happiness. Beware of losing your way, for you are one of few who have the freedom of choosing their own fate. It is a gift, but a responsibility more binding than chains."

"Or oaths in the ancient language," Blaster added. Her face grew sad as she continued.

"And yet, as if to counteract that, here is the lightning bolt. It is a terrible omen. There is doom upon you, but of what sort I know not. Part of it lies in a death—one that rapidly approaches and will cause you grief. The rest awaits in a great journey. Now, look closely at this bone. You can see how its end rests on that of the sailing ship. That is impossible to misunderstand. Your fate is to leave this land forever. Where you will end up, I do not know, but you will never again stand foot in Alagaësia. It is inescapable, and will come to pass even if you try to avoid it."

"I have to get back to where I'm from sometime," Blaster said, smiling.

"This next one is easier to read, and much more pleasant." She pointed to a rose blossom surrounded by the horns of a crescent moon. Right next to it was a pair of circles intertwined with each other. "An epic romance is in your future. You've already met the one you love. And this, the moon, the love is shown to have power to outlast empires. I can tell you that this passion will end well. See the intertwined circles? You will marry your love one day."

"Better get on that," Blaster muttered.

"Now, the last bones I have managed to decipher are these: The hawthorn root and the tree. Both cross each other strongly. You will be betrayed, and it will be from a member of your own family. But fear not, for the olive branch crosses the hawthorn root strongly as well. This means that, while your family member will betray you, they will in turn betray those who forced them to do the same to you."

"Playing both sides?" Blaster asked. Angela nodded. "Anything else the bones read? Or is that all that wyrda has in store for me?"

"Not that I can tell," Angela replied. "What I wouldn't give to see how the rest of your life plays out. You can speak to werecats, know of the ancient language, and have a most interesting future ahead of you. You are a very interesting, man, Blastbone Clarkson. Of the things I haven't been told by the bones, you look young, but you are getting older and wiser and more powerful with each passing day. You have the look of a mighty warrior, yet something tells me you have the cunning to even thwart a fox."

"Trust me," Blaster said. "I know. If I ever get the chance to…" He stopped when Solembum padded between them. The werecat looked directly at Blaster, unblinkingly. _Yes?_

_ Listen closely and I will tell you two things, but only this once. When the time comes and you need a weapon, look under the roots of the Menoa tree. Then, when all seems lost and your power is insufficient, got to the Rock of Kuthian and speak your name to open the Vault of Souls._

_ Need a weapon, look under the Menoa tree roots, and speak my name at the Rock of Kuthian to open the Vault of Souls when my power seems insufficient,_ Blaster repeated. _But what do they mean?_

Solembum had already walked away, waving his tail gracefully. Angela tilted her head. "I don't know what he said, and I don't want to know. He spoke to you and only you. Don't tell anyone else." She then paused. "Although, I do wish I knew why he told you and Eragon something."

"I should go ask him about it," Blaster said. He stood up and extended a hand. "I must go now, but I will visit again soon, with money, and buy some healing potions and energy restoring elixirs, as soon as you have them in stock."

"Of course," Angela replied. She shook his hand.

"And thanks for that fortune," Blaster added. "As soon as I find out what it means for me to die and have an extraordinarily long life at the same time, I'll send word to you in one form or another."

"You're welcome," Angela said, smiling.

They broke the handshake, and Blaster, after one last "Good bye," left the store, heading for the exit to Teirm.

* * *

><p><strong>When will Blaster find Char and actually marry her? How is it Blaster knows that he will die, yet live a long time? When will the similarities between Blaster and Eragon end? Find out next time on <em>Free Riders.<em>**

**__**Please R&R.


	23. Ch22: Kung Pow: Enter the Castle

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit. Title is a reference to _Kung Pow: Enter the Fist_, which I also do not own.

Chapter 22: Kung Pow: Enter the Castle

Blaster and Sara talked it out that afternoon. After explaining what had happened that day, and discussing what the werecat had said. They talked until dusk, then went their separate ways. He and Eragon met up just outside of Jeod's. They knocked on the door.

"Has Neal come back?" Blaster asked the butler.

"Yes sir. I believe he's in the study right now."

"Thank you very much," Blaster said. He and Eragon strode to the room in question and peeked inside. Brom was sitting by the fire, smoking.

"How did it go?" Eragon asked.

"Bloody awful!" Brom growled around his pipe.

"That good?" Blaster commented, sitting down.

"So you talked to Brand?" Eragon asked.

"Not that it did any good," Brom grumbled. "This _administrator_ of trade is the worst sort of bureaucrat. He abides by every rule, delights in making his own whenever it can inconvenience someone, and at the same time believes that he's doing good."

"So, a no-go on the record show?" Blaster asked.

"No," Brom snapped. "Nothing I could say would sway him. He even refused bribes! Substantial ones, too. I didn't think I would ever meet a noble who wasn't corrupt."

"Gotta watch out for those," Blaster said. "Even I prefer the greedy bastards over the ones who abide by every law they are given and enact." Brom muttered some curses, but otherwise didn't comment.

"So, what now?" Eragon asked.

"I'm going to take the next week and teach you how to read," Brom said.

"And after that?"

A smile grew on Brom's face. "After that, we're going to give Brand a nasty surprise." Eragon pestered him for details, but Brom refused to divulge.

Dinner was held in a sumptuous dining room. Jeod sat at one end of the table, Helen at the other, sporting hard eyes. Brom, Eragon, and Blaster were seated between them, which seemed to Blaster as a not-so-ideal place to be. True there were empty chairs between them and there was some space, but not everyone was one hundred percent protected from the glares of their hostess.

The food was served, and the hosts began eating, followed closely by the guests. With Helen's death glare and simmering resentment pouring from her, dinner was tense. They were all soon finished, and they left the table for bed.

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

Over the next few days, Brom began teaching Eragon in learning how to read and write. Then, he and Blaster would spar before dinner, drawing a crowd of children as spectators. The dragons were all but abandoned, being only greeted during short intervals in the evening. What was worse was the news of powerful people disappearing in the night, with only their mangled corpses being discovered in the morning.

A week after they had begun the routine, the dragons were alerted to their possible exit from Teirm, with one scenario suggesting that they would be running with soldiers on their heels. The night before they were to infiltrate and sneak a peek at the records, Blaster took his chance at scrying. He thought of Char then invoked the ancient language.

"Draumr kópa," Blaster muttered, and he looked upon the water basin in his room.

Blaster's fears had come true when he looked into the basin. Char was chained in a cold and dark cell. She had been crying, her eyes bloodshot. Moonlight shone through a barred window set high in the wall, and fell on her face. She muttered something in Torillian that Blaster didn't catch. Feeling his own power draining, he let go of the image, a single tear on his cheek.

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

The night in which they were to look at the records came quicker than expected. When they all met, Eragon had his bow as opposed to Zar'roc, mostly due to his slowly growing proficiency with the blade. Brom had his sword and staff, and Jeod had his rapier, although he was dressed all in black.

"That toad sticker is too thin for any real fighting," Brom observed. "What will you do if someone comes after you with a broadsword or a flamberge?"

"Be realistic," Jeod retorted. "None of the guards has a flamberge. Besides, this _toad sticker_ is faster than a broad sword."

"It's your neck," Brom shrugged.

They walked casually along the street, avoiding watchmen and soldiers. Eragon seemed tense. As they passed Angela's shop, a flash of movement caught the two Rider's attention. Blaster knew, but Eragon was unsure of what would have caused the movement because the source had disappeared.

Brom led them along Teirm's outer wall. By the time they had reached the castle, the sky was pitch black. Eragon shivered slightly, but not because of the cold. It was the sealed walls of the fortress. Jeod silently took the lead and strode up to the gates, attempting to look at ease. He pounded on the gate and waited. Seconds later, a small grille slid open and a surly guard peered out.

"Ya?" the guard grunted. Blaster could tell by both look and smell that he was getting drunk.

"We need to get in," Jeod said.

"Wha' for?" the guard asked, peering at Jeod closer.

"The boy here left something very valuable in my office. We have to retrieve it immediately." Eragon hung his head, shamefaced.

The guard frowned, clearly trying to get back to his bottle of booze. "Ah, wha'ever," he said, swinging his arm. "Jus' make sure 'n give 'im a good beating f'r me."

"I'll do that," Jeod assured as the guard unbolted a small door in the gate. They entered the keep, then Brom handed the guard a few coins.

"Thank'ee," the man mumbled. As soon as he had tottered away and out of sight, Eragon pulled his bow from his tube, and Blaster unbuttoned the restraining strap on his holsters. Jeod led them quickly into the main part of the castle, hurrying to their destination while listening for soldiers on patrol. At the records room, Brom tried the door, but it was locked. He pressed his hand against the door and muttered some words in the ancient language. It opened with a faint click. Brom grabbed a torch from the wall, and they darted inside, closing the door quickly.

It was a small room, full of wooden racks piled high with scrolls. A barred window was set in the far wall. Jeod threaded through the racks, running his eyes over the scrolls. He halted at the back of the room.

"Over here," he said. "These are the shipping records for the past five years. You can tell the date by the wax seals on the corner."

"Now what?" Blaster asked. He was not overly surprised they had gone this far without getting caught.

"Start at the top and work down," Jeod replied. "Some scrolls only deal with taxes. You can ignore those. Look for anything that mentions Seithr oil." He took out a length of parchment from a leather pouch on his hip and stretched it out on the floor, setting a bottle of ink and a quill next to it. "So we can keep track of whatever we find," he explained.

"Way ahead of ya," Blaster said, tapping on his wrist computer.

They immediately went to work. Eragon positioned himself so that he could see the door. Blaster took one of the scrolls that Brom had taken off the shelf, unrolled it, and began scanning the records into his computer. Whenever he came to the mention of Seithr oil, he would mark it on his touch screen, then show it to Jeod to copy it again, just to be sure. Many scrolls were of ships that sailed in the southern seas. However, they all continued to work.

It was quiet outside, except for the occasional watchman. Blaster could feel a presence, but continued working. Eragon's head soon shot up. Blaster looked where Eragon was looking and saw a small boy crouched on the windowsill. His eyes were slanted, and a sprig of holly was woven into his shaggy black hair. Blaster attempted to infiltrate the boy's mind, only to stop seconds later when he realized it was Solembum. He was busy talking to Eragon anyway, so the alien went back to scanning the records.

"There are soldiers looking for us," Eragon suddenly said. Blaster looked up and saw Solembum was gone.

"How do you know?" Brom asked.

"I listened in on the guard," Eragon said. "His replacement just sent men to search for us. We have to get out of here. They've probably already discovered that Jeod's office is empty."

"Are you sure?" Jeod asked.

"Yes!" Eragon said impatiently. "They're on their way."

Brom snatched another scroll from the rack. "No matter. We have to finish this now!" Blaster too grabbed another scroll, quickly unrolled it, and skimmed it just as quickly. He didn't have time to mark times when he saw the Seithr oil. When the last scroll was done, Brom threw it back on the rack, and Jeod hastily jammed his parchment, ink, and pen into his pouch. Eragon grabbed the torch.

They all raced from the room and shut the door, but just as it closed, they heard the heavy tramp of soldiers' boots at the end of the hall. They turned to leave, but Brom hissed furiously, "Damnation! It's not locked!" He put his hand against the door, and the lock clicked just as three armed soldiers came into view.

"Hey! Get away from that door!" one of the solders shouted. Brom backed up, assuming a surprised expression. The three men marched up to them. The tallest one, the one who spoke earlier demanded, "Why are you trying to get into the records?"

Blaster rested his hand on his sword. He could have easily killed them, but he dared not.

"I'm afraid we lost our way," Jeod said. His speech was strained. A solder glared suspiciously at them.

"Check inside the room," he ordered one of the men.

The soldier stepped up to the door. He tried to open it, then pounded on his mailed fist before declaring it was locked. The leader scratched his chin.

"Ar'right, then," the leader said. "I don't know what you were up to, but as long as the door's locked, I guess you're free to go. Come on." The soldiers surrounded them and marched them back to the keep.

_I still think it would have been easier to investigate if I were to play an officer or a detective,_ Blaster said, _but I'm not complaining about these guys helping us get away._

At the main gate, the lead soldier pointed and said, "Now, you walk through those and don't try anything. We'll be watching. If you have to come back, wait until morning."

"Of course," Jeod promised.

Blaster didn't need eyes in the back of his head to know that the guards were staring at them as they left. On the other side of the gate, Eragon suddenly sprouted a grin, and he jumped into the air. Blaster shot Eragon a cautioning look, while Brom growled, "Walk back to the house normally. You can celebrate there."

Eragon adopted a staid demeanor, but Blaster could tell he was fit to burst with energy. Once they had hurried back to the house and into the study, Eragon exclaimed, "We did it!"

"Yes, but now we must figure out if it was worth all that trouble," Blaster said. Jeod took a map of Alagaësia from the many shelves and unrolled it on the desk.

Blaster committed the map to memory, both his and his wrist computer. The left side of the map was a giant ocean that extended to the west. The Spine, fittingly, stretched along the coast, even further north than the map read. The center of the map was filled by the Hadarac Desert, and east of that was blank. To the south was Surda, a small country that had seceded from the Empire after the fall of the Riders. From what Blaster had deduced by the conversations of the previous nights, Surda was secretly supporting the Varden. The eastern border of Surda consisted of a mountain range merely labeled Beor Mountains, the giant mountains Eragon told Blaster about. The whole range was supposedly ten times the height of the Spine.

Islands rested off the coast of Surda: Nía, Parlim, Uden, Illium, and Beirland, with Nía and Uden more like outcroppings, and Beirland the largest of the five, large enough for a small town. Near Tierm sat Sharktooth Island, named for its shape. Near the north was a large, knobly island known as Vroengard, the ancestral home of the Riders. Blaster thought it looked more like a volcano.

Level with Carvahall, but across the plains, rested the immense forest known as Du Weldenvarden. It was so large that it, like the Beor Mountains, didn't seem to have an eastern edge. Nor did it appear to have a northern edge. Blaster's eyes then moved to the plains where the city of Urû'baen sat in the center. There, Blaster knew, sat King Galbatorix and his black dragon, Shurikan. Eragon pointed to the capitol city and said, "The Ra'zac are sure to have a hiding place here."

"You had better hope that that isn't their only sanctuary," Brom said. "Otherwise you will never get near them." He pushed the rustling map flat with his wrinkled hands until Blaster put down full clips for his pistol on the corners as paperweights.

Jeod pulled the parchment out of his pouch and said, "From what I saw in the records, there have been shipments of Seithr oil to every major city in the Empire over the past five years. As far as I can tell, all of them might have been ordered by wealthy jewelers. I'm not sure how we can narrow down this list without more information."

"Okay," Blaster said. "Since the Ra'zac are the king's servants, he can tell them to travel whenever he wants, and he's sure to have a strong workload on them. If they are expected to depart at any time, day or night, then the best bet for them would be to stay at a crossroad where they could have easy access to the whole country fairly easily." Jeod stared at Blaster in shock. "It's a tactical advantage. I would know because I'm a General."

Brom got excited and started pacing the room. "Yes, I see. But, this crossroad has to be large enough so the Ra'zac can be inconspicuous. It also has to have enough trade so any unusual requests, such as special food for their mounts, will go unnoticed."

"That makes sense," Jeod nodded. "Under those conditions, we can ignore most of the cities in the north. The only big ones are Teirm, Gil'ead, and Ceunon. I know they're not in Teirm, and I doubt that the oil has been shipped farther up the coast to Narda. It's too small. Cerunon is too isolated…only Gil'ead remains."

"The Ra'zac might be there," Brom conceded. "It would have a certain irony."

"It would at that," Jeod acknowledged softly.

"What about the southern cities?" Eragon asked.

Blaster looked over the map and said, "You might be on to something, there."

"Well," Jeod said. "There's obviously Urû'baen, but that's an unlikely destination. If someone were to die from Seithr oil in Galbatorix's court, it would be all too easy for an earl or some other lord to discover that the Empire had been buying large amounts of it. That still leaves many others, any one of which could be the one we want."

"Yes," Eragon said, "but the oil wasn't sent to all of them. The parchment only lists Kuasta, Dras-Leona, Aroughs, and Belatona. Kuasta won't work for the Ra'zac; it's on the coast and surrounded by mountains. Aroughs is isolated like Ceunon, though it is a center of trade. That leaves Belatona and Dras-Leona, which are rather close together. Of the two, I think Dras-Leona is the likelier. It's larger and better situated."

"And that's where nearly all the goods of the Empire pass through at one time or another, including Teirm's," Jeod said. "It would be a good place for the Ra'zac to hide."

"Give the man a medal," Blaster said, patting Eragon on the back.

"So…Dras-Leona," Brom said as he sat down and lit his pipe. "What do the records show?"

Jeod and Blaster searched their respective records. Jeod found his first.

"Ah, here it is," Jeod said. "At the beginning of the year, three shipments of Seithr oil were sent to Dras-Leona. Each shipment was only two weeks apart, and the records say that they were all transported by the same merchant. The same thing happened last year and the year before that. I doubt any one jeweler, or even a group of them, has the money for so much oil."

"What about Gil'ead?" Brom asked, raising an eyebrow.

"No go," Blaster said, finding them in his records. "They don't seem to have the same access to the rest of the Empire, and they've only received the oil twice in the past five years."

Jeod thought for a moment, then said, "Besides, I think we forgot something—Helgrind."

"Ah, yes," Brom nodded. "The Dark Gates. It's been many years since I've thought of it. You're right, that would make Dras-Leona perfect for the Ra'zac."

"Then, I guess it's decided," Blaster said. "We go to Dras-Leona."

There was a rustling of parchment as Jeod rolled the map up. He handed it to Brom and said, "You'll need this, I'm afraid. Your expeditions often take you to obscure regions." Brom accepted the map with a nod. Jeod clapped him on the shoulder. "It doesn't feel right that you will leave without me. My heart expects to go along, but the rest of me reminds me of my age and responsibilities."

"I know," Brom replied. "But you have a life in Teirm. It's time for the next generation to take up the standard. You've done your part; be happy."

"What of you?" Jeod asked. "Does the road ever end for you?"

A hollow laugh escaped Brom's lips. "I see it coming, but not for a while."

They all soon left for their rooms. Blaster contacted Sara to relate the night's adventures before he dipped into his meditative state.

* * *

><p><strong>Their path is set. This journey is coming to an end. But, will they still get the Ra'zac and get out with their lives? Stay tuned as we reach the turning point in <em>Free Riders.<em>**

Please, feel free to review, but don't flame or troll. That is all.


	24. Ch23: The Storyteller's Tale

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 23: The Storyteller's Tale

In the morning, Blaster double checked his map before he, Eragon, and Brom retrieved their saddle bags from the stable and prepared to depart. Jeod greeted Brom while Helen watched from the doorway. With grave looks, the two men clasped hands. "I'll miss you, old man," Jeod said.

"And you I," Brom said thickly. He bowed his white head, then turned to Helen. "Thank you for your hospitality; it was most gracious." Her face reddened and Eragon, for a fleeting moment, thought she was going to slap him. Brom continued, unperturbed, "You have a good husband; take care of him. There are few men as brave and as determined as he is. But he cannot weather difficult times without support from those he loves." He bowed again and said gently, "Only a suggestion, dear lady."

Indignation and hurt crossed Helen's face, and her eyes flashed as she shut the door brusquely. Sighing, Jeod ran his fingers through his hair. Eragon thanked him for all his help, then mounted Cadoc. Blaster thanked Jeod for his help as well, then mounted Samson, waiting for Brom. With the last farewells said, the three departed.

At Teirm's southern gate, the guards let them through without a second glance. As they rode under the giant outer wall, Eragon saw movement in the shadows. Blaster caught it too, and saw Solembum crouched on the ground, tail twitching. The werecat followed them with inscrutable eyes. As the city receded into the distance, Eragon asked, "What are werecats?"

Brom looked surprised by the question. "Why the sudden curiosity?"

"I heard someone mention them in Teirm," Eragon said, feigning ignorance. "They're not real, are they?"

"They are quite real," Brom replied. "During the Riders' years of glory, they were as renowned as the dragons. Kings and elves kept them as companions, yet the werecats were free to do what they choose. Very little has ever been known about them. I'm afraid that their race has become rather scarce recently."

"Could they use magic?" Eragon asked.

"No one's sure, but they could certainly do unusual things," Brom replied. "They always seemed to know what was going on and somehow or another manage to get themselves involved." He pulled up his hood to block a chill wind.

"Uh, Brom, do you happen to know what Helgrind is?" Blaster asked, while still checking the map on his wrist computer.

"You'll see when we get to Dras-Leona."

Once Teirm was out of sight, Blaster heard Eragon's mental shout to Saphira. It was strong enough for Cadoc to flick his ears in annoyance. Blaster did the same for Sara, but decided to be a bit gentler than Eragon had been.

The two sped towards them with all their strength. Eragon, Brom, and Blaster watched as a dark blur rushed from a cloud, followed closely by a light one. Seconds later, they heard a dull roar as the two dragons flared open their wings. The sun shone through the thin membranes, turning them translucent while silhouetting the dark veins. They landed with a couple of blasts of air.

Eragon tossed Cadoc's reins to Brom and said, "I'll join you for lunch."

Brom nodded, but seemed preoccupied. "Have a good time."

"And I will follow," Blaster said. Brom nodded in agreement.

"It's good to see you again," Brom said to the dragons.

_Likewise,_ Sara replied.

The two hopped onto their dragons' shoulders and held on tightly as they both bounded into the air. Saphira let out a wild bugle and soared in a great loop, Eragon yelling with excitement with his arms in the air. _Hold on_, Sara warned Blaster, and she too did a loop. Blaster was astonished he didn't fall off of Sara's back, but he decided not to go too in depth of what he just went through.

_Not being strapped in the saddle and pulling that move was dangerous,_ Blaster said. _But it was so much fun._

_I had no idea you could have done that_, Sara replied.

_I can do things you would be surprised about_, Blaster said. They resumed level flight until noon.

By the lunch hour, Blaster could feel his legs getting sore from riding bareback, and he feared his legs would have wounds like Eragon had when he first rode Saphira. However, when they landed for lunch, Blaster found no blood or scarring on his inner thighs, though they were red with irritation. Eragon and Saphira arrived soon after, Eragon stuffing his hands into his clothes and finding a warm, sunny spot to sit. The chill didn't affect Blaster as much as it did Eragon.

As they ate, Blaster thought about what he'd do after encountering the Ra'zac. However, he was shaken from his thoughts by Eragon probing into his mind. Eragon merely asked Blaster if he would accompany him and Brom on horseback, to which he agreed. Once they were done eating, the dragons flew off while the two Riders walked over to Brom and joined him on the trail. After a time, Eragon slowed Cadoc.

"I need to talk to you," Eragon said to Brom. "I wanted to do it when we first arrived in Teirm, but I decided to wait until now."

"About what?" Brom asked.

Eragon paused for a second. "There's a lot going on that I don't understand. For instance, who are your 'friends,' and why were you hiding in Carvahall? I trust you with my life-which is why I'm still traveling with you—but I need to know more about who you are and what you are doing. What did you steal in Gil'ead, and what is the tuatha de orothrim that you're taking us through? I think that after all that's happened, I deserve an explanation."

"You eavesdropped on us," Blaster accused.

"Only once," Eragon admitted. Blaster sighed.

"I see that you have yet to learn proper manners," Brom said grimly, pulling his beard. "What makes you think that this concerns you?"

"Nothing really," Eragon said shrugging. "Just it's an odd coincidence that you happened to be hiding in Carvahall when I found Saphira's egg, and Blaster Sara's, _and_ that you also know so much dragonlore. The more I think about it, the less likely it seems. There were other clues that I mostly ignored, but they're obvious now that I look back. Like how you knew of the Ra'zac in the first place and why they ran away when you approached. And I can't help but wonder if you had something to do with the appearance of the eggs, and possibly Blaster. There's a lot you haven't told us, and Saphira and I can't afford to ignore anything that might be dangerous."

Brom reigned Snowfire to a halt. "You won't wait?" he asked. Eragon shook his head, which caused Brom to sigh. "This wouldn't be a problem if you weren't so suspicious, but I suppose that you wouldn't be worth my time if you were otherwise." Eragon wasn't sure if he should take that as a complement. Brom lit his pipe before continuing. "I'll tell you," he said, "but you have to understand that I cannot reveal everything." Eragon began to protest, but Brom cut him off. "It's not out of a desire to withhold information, but because I won't give away secrets that aren't mine. There are other stories woven in with this narrative. You'll have to talk with the others involved to find out the rest."

"Very well," Eragon said. "Explain what you can."

"Are you sure?" Brom asked. "There are reasons for my secretiveness. I've tried to protect you by shielding you from forces that would tear you apart. Once you know of them and their purposes, you'll never have the chance to live quietly. You will have to choose sides and make a stand. Do you really want to know?"

"I can't live my life in ignorance," Eragon replied.

"A worthy goal…" Brom said. "Very well. There is a war raging in Alagaësia between the Varden and the Empire. Their conflict, however, reaches far beyond any incidental armed clashes. They are locked in a titanic power struggle…centered around you two."

"Wait, what?" Blaster asked, surprised.

"Us?" Eragon asked, disbelieving. "That's impossible. I don't have anything to do with either of them, let alone Blaster."

"Not yet," Brom said, "but your very existence is the focus of their battles. The Varden and the Empire aren't fighting to control this land or its people. Their goal is to control the next generation of Riders, of whom you are the first. Whoever controls these Riders will become the undisputed master of Alagaësia."

It took a bit to sink in, but eventually Eragon found words again, saying, "But all the Riders were killed except for the Forsworn, who joined Galbatorix. As far as I know, even those are now dead. And you told me in Carvahall that no one knows if there are still dragons in Alagaësia."

"I lied about the dragons," Brom said flatly. "Even though the Riders are gone, there are still four dragon eggs left—all of them in Galbatorix's possession. Actually, now there are only two, since Saphira and Sara hatched. The king salvaged the four during his last great battle with the Riders."

"So there may soon be two new Riders, both of them loyal to the king?" Eragon asked.

"Exactly," Brom replied. "There is a deadly race in progress. Galbatorix is desperately trying to find the people for whom his eggs will hatch, while the Varden are employing every means to kill his candidates or steal his eggs."

"But where did Saphira and Sara's eggs come from? How could anyone have gotten them away from the king? And why do you know all of this?" Eragon asked, bewildered.

"So many questions," Brom laughed bitterly. "There is another chapter to all this, one that took place long before you were born. Back when I was a bit younger, though perhaps not as wise. I hated the Empire—for reasons I'll keep to myself—and wanted to damage it in any way I could. My fervor led me to a scholar, Jeod, who claimed to have discovered a book that showed a secret passageway into Galbatorix's castle. I eagerly brought Jeod to the Varden—who are my 'friends'—and they arranged to have the eggs stolen.

"However, something went amiss, and our thief only managed to get two eggs. For some reason, he fled with them and didn't return to the Varden. When he wasn't found, Jeod and I were sent to bring him and the eggs back." Broms eyes grew distant, and he spoke in a curious voice. "That was the start of one of the greatest searches in history. We raced against the Ra'zac and Morzan, last of the Forsworn and the king's finest servant."

"Morzan!" Eragon interrupted. "But he was the one who betrayed the Riders to Galbatorix!"

"Reminds you how long Riders live, huh?" Blaster commented.

"So?" Brom asked, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, he was old, but strong and cruel. He was one of the king's first followers and by far his most loyal. As there had been blood between us before, the hunt for the eggs became a personal battle. When it was located in Gil'ead, I rushed there and fought Morzan for possession. It was a terrible contest, but in the end I slew him. During the conflict I was separated from Jeod. There was no time to search for him, so I took the eggs and bore them to the Varden, who asked me to train whomever became the new Riders. I agreed and decided to hide in Carvahall, which I had been to several times before, until the Varden contacted me. I was never summoned."

"Then how did Saphira and Sara's eggs appear in the Spine? Were there two more stolen from the king?" Eragon asked.

"I doubt that," Blaster said, personally recalling what Brom had said moments before.

"There is a small chance of that," Brom grunted. "He has the remaining two guarded so thoroughly that it would be suicide to try and steal them. No, Saphira and Sara were taken from the Varden, and I think I know how. To protect the eggs, their guardians must have tried to send them to me with magic.

"The Varden haven't contacted me to explain how they lost the eggs, so I suspect their runners were intercepted by the Empire and the Ra'zac were sent in their place. I'm sure they were quite eager to see me, as I've managed to foil many of their plans."

"Then the Ra'zac didn't know about us when they arrived in Carvahall," Eragon said in wonder.

"That's right," Brom said.

"If only that ass Sloan had kept his trap shut, they might not have even found out about us," Blaster said. "Dumbass!"

"Yes," Brom said. "Events could have turned out quite differently. In a way I have you to thank for my life. If the Ra'zac hadn't become so preoccupied with the two of you, they might have caught me unawares, and that would have been the end of Brom the storyteller. The only reason they ran was because I'm stronger than the two of them, especially during the day. They must have planned to drug me during the night, then question me about the eggs."

"You sent a message to the Varden, telling them about us?" Eragon asked.

"Yes," Brom replied. "I'm sure they'll want me to bring you to them as soon as possible."

"But you're not going to, are you?" Eragon asked.

Brom shook his head. "No, I'm not."

"Why not?" Eragon demanded. "Being with the Varden must be safer than chasing after the Ra'zac, especially for new Riders."

Brom snorted and looked at Eragon with fondness. "The Varden are dangerous people. If we go to them, you will be entangled in their politics and machination. Their leaders may send you on missions just to make a point, even though you might not be strong enough for them. I want you to be well prepared before you go anywhere near the Varden. At least while we pursue the Ra'zac, I don't have to worry about someone poisoning your water. This is the lesser of two evils. And," he said with a smile, "It keeps you happy while I train the two of you. Tuatha du orothrim is just a stage in your instruction. I _will_ help you find, and perhaps even kill the Ra'zac, for they are as much my enemies as yours. But then you will have to make a choice."

"And that would be…what exactly?" Blaster asked.

"Whether to join the Varden," Brom said. "If you kill the Ra'zac, the only ways for you to escape Galbatorix's wrath will be to seek the Varden's protection, flee to Surda, or plead of the king's mercy and join his forces. Even if you don't kill the Ra'zac, you will still face this choice eventually."

Blaster was in deep thought, as was Eragon. To defy Galbatorix like killing his precious dragon-killers would mean certain death for them unless they went with these three options. Blaster couldn't even think of a fourth. Eragon and Brom began talking about Eragon's mother, and Blaster could feel some sorrow coming from Brom as he mentioned he knew her enough to miss her when she was gone. He soon began missing his fiancé, hoping that he would find Char before it was too late.

* * *

><p><strong>Will Blaster get to Char in time? Will the Riders join the Varden? When will Eragon stop asking questions? The answer to these questions and more next time on <em>Free Riders.<em>  
><strong>

**__**I am updating today because I will not be able to Friday. Please R&R, no deconstructive criticism, and also note that last chapter, Blaster said he was a General. To clarify, he's from an alternate reality that is in the future (~2052), and they've added a few ranks, making it easier to get to General in such short time (Since Blaster is 34, as he said a couple of chapters ago), but the rank of General (specifically Brigadier, 1-star, and 2-star) has had some of its abilities taken away from them. And, as you will see in the last fight, Blaster is proud to be a General, but he doesn't enjoy the responsibilities.


	25. Ch24: Misjudgement

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 24: Misjudgement

When they stopped for the day, Eragon went out to search for water while Brom and Blaster made dinner. Blaster made small talk, doing his best to avoid taking about sensitive topics while he talked. It wasn't long before Saphira suddenly jerked.

"Saphira?" Blaster asked. "What's up?"

She didn't answer. No more than a minute later, she took Brom and hid him behind her wings. Brom protested loudly, as did Blaster as he was soon dragged underneath her wings.

_Sara, do you mind asking Saphira what is going on?_ Blaster demanded. He got no response for a few seconds.

_She has been tasked with protecting you_, Sara said. There was a rustling in the brush, and someone lept into the camp.

"Stop!" Eragon shouted, avoiding Saphira's tail. "It's me!" Saphira merely muttered an "oops" in response. "Oops? You could've killed me! Where's Brom and Blaster?"

"Right here!" Blaster shouted.

"Tell your crazy dragon to release me; she won't listen to me!" Brom added.

"Let them go!" Eragon said, exasperated. "Didn't you tell them?"

"No, she didn't say anything," Blaster said, angrily as he and Brom walked out from under her wings.

"I found an Urgal footprint," Eragon said. "And it's fresh."

Brom immediately turned serious. "Saddle the horses. We're leaving." He put out the fire, but noticed Eragon didn't move. Blaster then saw Eragon's right wrist didn't look normal. "What's wrong with your arm?"

"My wrist is broken," Eragon replied, swaying.

"I got it," Blaster said. He pulled out a length of bandage and tried to wind it tightly around Eragon's wrist without causing him too much pain. Using a bit of his own magic, he made a small block of ice to help numb the pain. Brom merely saddled Cadoc for him and then helped Eragon into the saddle after Blaster was done. "I've wrapped it as tight as I can, and I cooled it down a little to numb the pain, but we'll have to put a splint on it. Try not to move your wrist until then." Eragon gripped the reigns in his left hand.

"It's almost dark," Brom said to the dragons. "You might as well fly right overhead. If Urgals show up, they'll think twice about attacking with you two nearby."

_They'd better,_ Sara said, threateningly. _If not, it'll be the last thought on their mind._ She took off with Saphira not too far behind.

Light faded quickly, and though the horses were tired, they spurred them without respite. Eragon's wrist was continuing to swell and throb despite Blaster's medical aid. Roughly a mile from the camp, Brom halted. "Listen," he said.

Blaster and Eragon both heard the faint call of a hunting horn behind them. As it went silent, panic gripped them.

"They must have found camp," Blaster said. "Probably even our tracks."

"They will chase us now," Brom said in response. "It's not in their nature to let prey escape." Two more horns sounded in the distance, closer than the first. A chill ran down Eragon's spine. "Our only chance is to run." Brom raised his head to the sky, and his face blanked as he called Saphira and Sara.

They rushed out of the sky and landed. "Leave Cadoc and Samson. Go with them. You'll be safer," Brom ordered

"What about you?" Eragon asked.

"He'll be fine," Blaster said, tossing Brom the reigns to Samson. He lept onto Sara as Eragon scrambled onto Saphira and Brom lashed Snowfire and rode away with Cadoc and Samson. Sara and Saphira flew above them.

Eragon clung to Saphira as best he could with his broken wrist. Horns blared nearby, bringing with it a fresh wave of utter terror. Brom crashed through the underbrush below, forcing the horses to their limits. The horns sounded in unison close behind, then went silent. Minutes passed without the sound of the horns. Then, a horn sounded in the distance. Eragon and Blaster sighed in relief.

_That, my friend, was close_, Blaster said to Sara.

_Yes, but we cannot stop until— _Sara began. She was interrupted by the sound of a horn blast…directly below them.

_Shit!_ Blaster cursed as Brom resumed his frenzied retreat. Horned Urgals, shouting in coarse voices, barreled along the trail on horseback, and they were gaining ground. They were almost in sight of Brom, who was unable to outrun them. _We gotta think of something._

_Have anything in mind?_ Sara asked.

_I'm thinking,_ Blaster replied. He would have tried to take them out from the sky, but he left his big guns in his saddle bag on Samson. There was not enough time to go down and get them. He still had his pistols, but he used one clip to take down an Urgal before. As he was running out of options, Blaster saw Saphira dive towards the ground. _Eragon, what are you thinking?_

_I think he means to fight off the Urgals with magic,_ Sara replied. _I believe he's going to land in front of them._

_Descend, but do not engage,_ Blaster said. He prepared to use any magic that he had learned, hoping that one of them might work.

"NOW!"

Eragon's shout was Saphira's command to drop straight down, landing heavily in front of the Urgals. The Urgals reigned in their steeds, only to get tangled in each other. They quickly untangled themselves in order to face Saphira with bared weapons. Hate crossed their faces, all twelve of them. Blaster thought that the presence of a dragon would frighten them into fleeing.

_Sara, get me closer, but don't give yourself away_, Blaster ordered. _I want to be there in case Eragon's head is thicker than his heart._

Sara dove a little closer. Blaster was glad because the largest Urgal advanced and spoke.

"Our master wishes to speak with you, human!" The monster spat in deep, rolling gutturals. There was a pause that Blaster assumed was Eragon conferring with Saphira.

"Who is your master?" Eragon finally asked. The Urgal sneered.

"His name does not deserve to be given to one as low as yourself," the Urgal replied. "He rules the sky and holds dominance over the earth. You are no more than a stray ant to him. Yet he has decreed that you shall be brought before him, _alive_. Take heart that you have become worthy of such notice."

_Don't do it, Eragon_, Blaster thought. _It's a trap._

"I'll never go with you nor any of my enemies," Eragon declared.

_Now would be a good time to kill them!_ Blaster said.

"Whether you serve Shade, Urgal, or some twisted fiend I've not heard of, I have no wish to parley with him."

_Now!_ Blaster shouted.

"That is a grave mistake," the Urgal growled, showing his fangs. "There is no way to escape him. Eventually you will stand before our master. If you resist, he will fill your days with agony."

_NOW!_

"Keep your offer and tell your master that the crows can eat his entrails for all I care!" Eragon said.

_You idiot!_ Blaster shouted. _You don't insult them! KILL THEM!_ Eragon continued to ignore him.

Rage swept through the Urgals; their leader howled, gnashing his teeth. "We'll drag you to him, then!" He waved his arm and the Urgals rushed at Saphira. Eragon raised his injured right hand.

"Jierda!" he cried.

_NO!_ Blaster shouted.

The monsters wavered as Eragon's palm glowed. Beams of light lanced from his hand, striking each of them in the gut. The Urgals were thrown into the air.

_Sara, descend!_ Blaster shouted. He pulled out Cratona as Sara dropped. As the Urals smashed into trees and tried to regain their senses, Sara came into view. Blaster dropped off her, between Eragon, who was suddenly drained from the energy and tumbled off of Saphira, and the Urgals. Raising his sword into the air, he recalled the magic from his second adventure through parallel worlds and hoped it would work. "GATHER!"

A multicolored orb appeared above the tip of his blade. He felt the drain of his energy, but it wasn't anywhere near as bad as Eragon. The Urgals who had gotten up were suddenly pulled towards the orb, some of them screaming in terror. Blaster jumped into the fray and began to slice through any Urgal he could reach. When his spell expired, the bodies of about half a dozen Urgals fell to the ground. The other half dozen fled before Blaster could cast his Magnet spell again.

_Saphira,_ Blaster said, accessing the sapphire dragon's mind, _take Eragon to Brom and let him know what I've gone to do. Whatever you do, do NOT tell Brom about the magic you have just seen. I will tell him myself._

_As you wish,_ Saphira said. She picked up Eragon gently in her front claws, then took off to where Brom may be. Blaster jumped up as Sara swooped down and landed right where the saddle should have been.

_After those Urgals,_ Blaster said. _Activate your tracking computer, Saranya._

_Why use my full name?_ Sara replied. _Are you mad?_

_Furious,_ Blaster admitted. _I have a bone to pick with Eragon once he regains conciousness._

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

Blaster, Brom, Saphira, and Sara were returning to where Eragon was left to heal. Blaster's blade was covered in black blood, as were some parts of his clothes. Brom's beard was stained red. As they approached the clearing, they saw Eragon up and moving about, one of Blaster's wrist guards as a splint. He looked up as the four landed.

"What happened?" Eragon asked.

"What happened?" Blaster said, dropping off Sara. His anger was at the boiling point. "What happened? I'll tell you what happened! We've been trying to clean up the nice mess you made!" He slashed his sword through the air, sending blood flying as it arced. The sword hummed and slipped, imbedding itself into a nearby tree. "Do you know what you did with that little trick of yours?"

"I stopped the Urgals from catching Brom," Eragon said, pit forming in his stomach.

"Well that's all fine and dandy," Blaster said, "but that little piece of magic nearly killed you! You've been out for two days! There were twelve Urgals. _TWELVE_ of them! But that didn't stop you from trying to throw them all the way to Teirm, now did it? What the _hell_ where you thinking? Send a rock through their heads. That would have been the smart thing to do. But _no_, you had to knock them out so that they could escape later. Brom and I have spent the last two days trying to track them down. Even with Saphira and Sara, three of them managed to elude us!"

"I didn't want to kill them," Eragon said, feeling rather small, even though Blaster didn't really tower over him.

"That didn't seem to be a problem in Yazuac!"

"There was no choice then, and I couldn't control the magic. This time it just seemed…extreme."

"EXTREME?" Blaster roared. "It's not extreme when they wouldn't show you the same mercy. Neither is it extreme when you are trying to keep your head on your shoulders. And why-oh-why did you show yourself to them?"

"You said that they had found Saphira's and Sara's footprints," Eragon defended. "It didn't make any difference if they saw me." Blaster snapped.

"I said they _probably_ found their tracks," Blaster roared, the earth literally quaking beneath his boots. "We didn't know for certain. They might have believed they were chasing down some stray travelers, for all we know. But, why would they think that now, hmm? After all, you _landed right in front of them!_ And you let them live! Might as well hold a gigantic sign above your head telling the Empire that you are here!" He walked over to the tree wrenched his sword out of it. "I've had enough talk with this _boy_!" He stomped to the fire.

Blaster heard Brom talking, then yelling at Eragon, berating him again for his blatant lack of intelligence. Blaster's anger had hit a literal boiling point, so, to let off some steam, he conjured a fireball twice the size of a basketball and flung it into the trees. The fire struck the tree and tried to engulf it, but with the springtime dampness, Blaster's fireball merely dissipated until it was extinguished. He was soon joined by Brom at the fire, who was fuming.

"I at least had the sense to tell him to kill them, but he wouldn't listen," Blaster said.

"So you've told me," Brom grumbled. "That kid is more trouble than he's worth."

"And you expected him to be different?" Blaster questioned.

"I expected him to be somewhat like you," Brom admitted. They fell silent and began to clean their swords until Eragon approached.

"Would it help if I said I was sorry?" Eragon asked, hesitantly.

"No, it wouldn't" Blaster snapped. "Your feelings cannot change what happened. What's past is past, there need not be dwelling on what you could or couldn't have done."

Brom sheathed his sword and jabbed Eragon in the chest with his finger. "You made some very bad choices that could have dangerous repercussions. Not the least of which is that you almost died. Died, Eragon! From now on, you're going to have to think. There's a reason why we're born with brains in our head, not dung."

Eragon nodded, then said, in a slightly lighter tone, "It's not as bad as you thing though. The Urals already knew about me. They had orders to capture me."

Brom's eyes widened in astonishment as he struck a match to light his pipe. "No, it's not as bad as I thought. It's worse! Saphira and Blaster told me you had talked with the Urgals, but they didn't mention this." Eragon described the confrontation in detail. "So they have some sort of leader now?" Eragon nodded. "And you just defied his wishes, insulted him, and attacked his men? I didn't think it could get any worse. If the Urgals had been killed, your rudeness would have gone unnoticed, but now it'll be impossible to ignore. Congratulations, for you have just made enemies with one of the most powerful beings in Alagaësia."

"Alright, I made a mistake," Eragon said sullenly.

"Yeah, you did," Blaster agreed. "What has me worried, though, is who this Urgal leader might be."

A collective shiver went through the three.

"So, what happens now?" Eragon asked.

There was a pause. "Your arm will take at least a couple of weeks to heal. That time would be well spent forging some sense into you. I suppose this is partially my fault. I've been teaching you _how_ to do things, not whether you _should_. It takes discretion, something you obviously lack. All the magic in Alagaësia won't help you if you don't know when to use it."

"But we're still going to Dras-Leona, right?" Eragon asked.

"Yes, we can keep looking for the Ra'zac," Blaster said. "But, even if we do find them, it won't do any good until you're healed." He and Brom began to unsaddle the dragons. "You well enough to ride?"

"I think so," Eragon said.

"Good," Brom said. "Then we can still cover a few miles today."

"Where are the horses?" Eragon asked.

"Over there a ways," Brom said, pointing to the side. "I picketed them where there was grass." They all prepared to leave, then followed Brom to the horses.

As they rode, every bump and dip in the trail made Eragon wince. It didn't help that Brom was giving him difficult scenarios involving Urgals, magic, and Saphira. Variations in the fighting and scenarios were numerous, and sometimes, Brom would throw in another dragon, or dragons, or even a Shade. Eragon got flustered, and managed to get most of the questions wrong.

When they stopped for the night, Brom grumbled shortly, "It was a start."

* * *

><p><strong>Will Eragon learn from his mistakes? How does Blaster know such magic? Why can't these guys go anywhere without causing some sort of commotion? Find out the answers to these questions and more on the next <em>Free Riders<em>.**

Please R&R. Hope you enjoyed.


	26. Ch25: Master of the Blade

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 25: Master of the Blade

The next day was easier for all of them. Eragon felt much better and was able to answer more of Brom's questions correctly. After an especially difficult exercise given by Blaster, Eragon mentioned his scrying of a woman he had seen imprisoned in his dreams. Brom pulled at his beard. "You say she was imprisoned?"

"Yes."

"Didja happen to get a good look at her face?" Blaster questioned.

"Not very clearly," Eragon replied. "The lighting was bad, yet I could tell that she was beautiful. It's strange, though. I had no problem seeing her eyes. And she did look at me."

Brom shook his head. "As far as I know, it's impossible for anyone to know if they're being scryed upon."

"Do you know who she might be?" Eragon asked, surprised by the eagerness in his voice.

"Not really," Brom replied. "If pressed, I suppose I could come up with a few guesses, but none of them are very likely. This dream of yours is peculiar. Somehow you managed to scry in your sleep something that you'd never seen before—without saying the words of power. Dreams do occasionally touch the spirit realm, but this is different."

"Perhaps to understand this we should search every prison and dungeon until we find the woman," Eragon bantered, thinking it was a good idea. Brom laughed. "That, and that other woman I saw in my dreams."

"Didja happen to get a look at _her_ face?" Blaster asked.

"Yes," Eragon replied. "Unlike the other woman, her face was lit rather well. She had blue eyes, and brown hair. It extended to about mid-back. I couldn't see her clothes, but she did have a small scar on her left cheek."

"Small scar on her left cheek?" Blaster asked. He dug into his saddlebags, sifting through some of his stuff before he came upon his wallet. He pulled out a picture and handed it to Eragon. "Did the woman you see look like this?"

"Yeah," Eragon said. "How did you know?"

"Because," Blaster said, taking back the picture. "I was the one who gave her that scar."

"So, you know her?"

"Char," Blaster said. "She's my fiancé."

"Why did you give her that scar?" Eragon asked.

"It was several years ago," Blaster admitted. "I lost control of myself and attacked my friends. She deliberately left that scar as a reminder of what happened to me and to her." He sighed. "But, she was able to help me regain control. For that, I am thankful."

"How long have you two been engaged?" Eragon asked.

"Long enough," Blaster said. "Now, should we continue?" He rode on without another word.

Brom's strict training filled nearly every hour as the days blended into weeks. Due to the splint, Eragon was forced to use his left hand whenever he and Blaster sparred, though Blaster proved he was just as ambidextrous by fighting left handed as well, having trained dual wielding swords in the past. Before long, Eragon could duel as well with his left hand as he had with his right.

In the time it took them to cross the Spine and reached the plains, spring had crept over Alagaësia, summoning forth a multitude of multicolored flowers. The bare trees were beginning to bud, and new blades of grass began to ride from the dead stalks of the previous year. Birds soon began to sing as they arrived from their summer homes.

The travelers followed the Toark River southeast, along the edge of the Spine. It grew as small streams and tributaries flowed into it. When the river was over a league wide, Brom pointed at the silt islands that dotted the water. "We're close to Leona Lake now," he said. "It's only about two leagues away."

"Do you think we can get there before nightfall?" Eragon asked.

"I see no harm in trying," Blaster said.

Dusk soon made the trail hard to follow, but the sound of the river at their side guided them. When the moon rose, the bright disk provided enough light to see what was before them.

Leona Lake looked like a thin sheet of silver beaten over the land. The water was calm and smooth, so much so that it didn't look like it was liquid. Aside from a bright strip of moonlight reflecting off the lake's surface, there was no distinction between it and the ground. Saphira and Sara were on the rocky shore, fanning their wings to dry them. Once they were greeted, Saphira said, _The water is lovely—deep, cool, and clear._

_If you're game, let's go take a dip in the lake tomorrow_, Blaster said. They set up camp under a stand of trees and were soon asleep…save for Blaster, who meditated.

As dawn was beginning to overtake nightfall, Blaster looked out to the lake. It had become whitecapped with small waves where the wind took hold of it. He thought about it for a few seconds, then, without missing a beat, ran into the water. _Sara, you wanna go for a swim?  
><em>

Sara dove towards the lake in response. She hovered over Blaster and allowed him to climb onto her back. They flew over to the lake, circling upwards, but even then, they couldn't see the opposite bank. With unspoken consent, Sara locked her wings and sank to the waves. She skimmd the waves, then folded her wings and dived into the lake, her head and neck entering it like a lance.

Blaster was hit by a wall of water, almost ripping him from Sara's back had he not gripped tighter. He held on as Sara swam back to the surface, breaching it in three strokes of her feet. Blaster shook his hair as Sara slithered across the lake, using her tail as a rudder.

_Ready?_

Blaster gripped the neck spike in front of him and nodded. They slid gently under the water. The unclouded liquid allowed them to see for yards. Sara began to twist and turn, narrowly avoiding Saphira and Eragon as they plunged into the water. It was as if she were made for the water as much as the air.

Before he could suck in a breath of water, Sara arched her back and pointed her head upwards. They burst out of the water like a copy of the scene from _Hunt for Red October_, then took to the skies with a couple of flaps of her wings.

_I could breathe underwater_, Blaster admitted. _It's one of my unnatural abilities I picked up recently._

_Now that is cool,_ Sara replied. _How did you manage to do that?_

_I do not really know how it started, but it must have something to do with the computer on my wrist,_ Blaster replied. _I'm guessing that it senses that I have water in my lungs and, using chemistry, takes out the hydrogen and leaves the oxygen for me to breath. That's what water is, two parts hydrogen, one part oxygen._

_I see._ Sara thought for a moment. _I never knew this lake was so large._

_Where I come from, there are five of them in one general area. The largest and northernmost was called 'Gichigami' by the natives of that region. Translated, it means 'Big Water' in their tongue. I would bet that this lake is about as big as that lake, if not bigger._

Once Blaster was dry, using a layer of fire momentarily to dry his clothing, he and Eragon joined Brom, saddled the horses, and started around Leona Lake in high spirits. Saphira and Sara playfully alternated diving into and out of the water.

Before dinner that night, Eragon blocked Zar'roc's edge in preparation for the usual sparring. Neither he nor Blaster moved, waiting for the others to strike. Blaster watched Eragon's eyes inspect the area, and he accurately predicted that the younger's opening move would be to hurl a stick near the fire at him.

Eragon's splint got in the way, sending the stick flying in Blaster's general direction. Blaster easily sidestepped the stick and rushed forward, swinging his sword. Eragon ducked and Cratona whistled over his head. He growled and tackled Blaster.

They pitched to the ground, each struggling to stay on top. Eragon rolled to the side and swept Zar'roc over the ground at Blaster's shins. The alien parried the blow with the hilt of his sword, then jumped to his feet. Eragon attacked again as he stood, guiding Zar'roc through a complex pattern. Sparks danced from their blades as they struck again and again. Blaster blocked each blow he could.

Blaster got a little carried away and tried to block another complex pattern. Eragon smashed the flat of his blade against Blaster's guard and ripped Cratona from Blaster's hands, sending it spinning to the ground, well away from Blaster's outstretched hand. Before Blaster could react, the tip of the red sword was at his neck. They stood panting for a few seconds. Eragon slowly lowered his arm and backed away. It was the first time Blaster had been bested without Eragon resorting to trickery. Blaster picked up his sword and sheathed it. "We're done for today," he finally said.

"But, we just started," Eragon said, startled.

Brom shook his head. "We can teach you nothing more of the sword."

"Of all the fighters I've met, I can only think of about three or four who could have defeated me like that," Blaster added. "And I doubt any of them could have done it with their off hand." He smiled. "Consider that as a compliment. You have become a rather talented and rare swordsman. Though to be fair, I kinda goofed up at the end there."

"Does this mean we're not going to spar every night?" Eragon asked.

"Oh, you're not getting out of it," Brom laughed. "But, we'll go easier now. It's not as important if we miss a night here and there. Just remember, if you ever have the misfortune to fight an elf—trained or not, female or male—expect to lose. They, along with dragons and other creatures of magic, are many times stronger than nature intended. Even the weakest elf could overpower you easily. Same goes for the Ra'zac—they are not human and tire much more slowly than we do."

"Is there any way to become their equal?" Eragon asked. He sat down cross-legged by Saphira. Blaster just sat with his legs outstreched and his back against Sara.

"There are a few," Brom shrugged, "but none are available to you now. Magic will let you defeat all but the strongest enemies. For those, you'll need Saphira's help, plus a great deal of luck. Remember, when creatures of magic actually _use_ magic, they can accomplish things that could kill a human, because of their enhanced abilities."

"How do you fight with magic?" Eragon asked.

"What do you mean by that?" Blaster asked. "Like fighting with magic like you did in Yazuac?"

"No," Eragon said. "Suppose I was attacked by a Shade. How could I block his magic? Most spells take place instantaneously, which makes it impossible to react in time. And even if I could, how would I nullify an enemy's magic? It seems I would have to know my opponent's intentions _before_ he acted." He paused. "I just don't see how it can be done. Whoever attacked first would win."

Brom sighed. "What you are talking about—a 'wizards' duel, if you will—is extremely dangerous. Haven't you ever wondered how Galbatorix was able to defeat all of the Riders with the help of only a dozen or so traitors?"

"I never thought about it," Eragon admitted.

"There are several ways," Brom said. "Some you'll learn about later, but the main one is that Galbatorix was, and still is, a master of breaking into people's minds. You see, in a wizard's duel, there are strict rules that each side must observe or else both contestants will die. To begin with, no one uses magic until one of the participants gains access to the other's mind."

Saphira curled her tail around Eragon and asked him a question. He voiced it, asking, "Why wait? By the time an enemy realizes that you've attacked, it will be too late for him to act."

Brom shook his head. "No, it won't. If I were to suddenly use my power against you, Eragon, you would surely die. But, in the brief moment before you were destroyed, there would be time for a counterattack. Therefore, unless one combatant has a death wish, neither side attacks until one of them has breached the other's defenses."

"And then what happens?" Blaster asked.

Brom shrugged and said, "Once you're inside your enemies mind, it's easy enough to anticipate what he will do and prevent it. Even with that advantage, it's still possible to lose if you don't know how to counteract spells." He filled and lit his pipe. "That requires extraordinarily quick thinking. Before you can defend yourself, you have to understand the exact nature of the forces directed at you. If you're being attacked with heat, you have to know whether it is being conveyed to you through air, fire, light, or some other medium. Only once that is known can you combat the magic by, for instance, chilling the heated material."

"That sounds rather difficult," Eragon mused.

"Extremely," Brom confirmed. A plume of smoke rose from his pipe. "Seldom can people survive such a duel for more than a few seconds. The enormous amount of effort and skill required condemns anyone without proper training to a quick death. Once you've progressed, I'll start teaching you the necessary methods. In the meantime, if either of you find yourselves facing a wizard's duel, I suggest you run away as fast as you can."

"Understood," Blaster said.

They ate dinner, then all but Blaster, as per usual, went to bed. Tonight, Blaster thought it would be wise to contact his ship again. Alice was overjoyed with the contact.

"It's been what, about a month?" Alice nearly shouted.

"Easy," Blaster muttered, "I don't want to wake the others."

"Still, it would have been nicer if you talked to me more often than not," Alice retorted.

"Well, we are at least forty kliks north of Dras-Leona, and we are zeroing in on the Ra'zac."

"Seems nice, but I don't see how that helps," Alice argued.

"Well, I have found out that Char is being held prisoner," Blaster said. "Where, I cannot tell."

"And you think she's being held in Dras-Leona?"

"It is probable." Blaster dug out his cloak. "Perhaps Nox's old cloak will serve me well again. Probably not the best move, but I would like to be rather inconspicuous, yet menacing. And what is more menacing than a black, hooded cloak."

* * *

><p><strong>Will Char be in Dras-Leona? Will they be able to get to the Ra'zac and serve their justice? Will the wild goose chase end and the running begin? The answers to these and more next time on <em>Free Riders.<em>**

****As I am sure there is probably a few wondering how he's able to breathe underwater and if his explanation correct, I will say this now: He found out about this ability long before, but he doesn't use it on a regular basis. As he explained, the computer he has imbedded on his wrist is breaking down the water and saving the oxygen using a chemical reaction. It has nothing to do with his powers, and, unfortunately, he cannot control it. However, just like an oxygen tank, the computer can only convert a limited quantity of water to oxygen before needing recharging. Typically, it is one 24 hour period's worth, but, because Blaster uses it sparingly, he may forget he's getting low and needs to recharge the computer's ability after a short time. Trust me, I am trying my best to make sure Blaster is not too overpowered, but he will need it later in the saga (because, yes, I am continuing all the way to the end).

Please R&R.


	27. Ch26: DrasLeona

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 26: Dras-Leona

They lunched at Fasaloft, as bustling lakeside village. It was a charming place set on a rise overlooking the lake. As they ate, Eragon and Blaster listened intently to the gossip and were relieved when no rumors of Eragon, Saphira, Blaster, and Sara.

The trail, now a road, had grown steadily worse over the past two days. Wagon wheels and iron-shod hooves tore up the ground, making many sections impassable. Also, an increase in traffic forced Saphira and Sara to hide during the daytime, then catch up to the group at night.

For days, they continued along Leona Lake's vast shoreline. Eragon started to feel downtrodden, wondering if they would ever get around it. He was heartened when they met men who said Dras-Leona lay an easy day's ride ahead.

Blaster stirred from his resting meditations early the following morning. Digging into his saddlebags, he pulled out the cloak and his revolver. Stuffing the revolver in a holster on his back, then making sure his two pistols were on his hips, he carefully donned the cloak. Cratona had to be removed in order for him to keep the cloak looking normal. Luckily, he had picked up a spare short sword from a blacksmith in Fasaloft, and he wore that instead.

Finally, after making sure everything was in place, Blaster lifted the hood.

"Expecting trouble?" Brom asked. He was sitting upright, almost like he had been for a while.

"If what you say is true, then Dras-Leona is nothing more than a wretched hive of scum and villainy," Blaster said. "It's better to be prepared and cautious. Especially if the Ra'zac have spies in their ranks."

Brom nodded, then began to pack up and prepare breakfast.

_You know_, Sara said, stretching, _we won't be able to protect you like before. We'll be too far if you ever need assistance, nor would we survive on the narrow streets your kind favor._

_I am aware of that_, Blaster said.

_Will you go with Brom to the Varden?_ Sara asked. _Once the Ra'zac are killed, he will want to take you to them. And, since Galbatorix will be enraged by the Ra'zac's death, that may be the safest thing for us to do._

_True,_ Blaster said. _However, I still need to find which prison holds Char captive. After that, we can take the most logical path._

The road became clogged more and more with farmers taking their goods to market. The trio had to slow their horses and wait for the wagons in front of them. Before noon, they saw smoke in the distance, but it was another league before they saw the city completely. Unlike Teirm, this city was a mess, with buildings placed haphazardly, as if a child with building blocks had designed it. Moments later, a mountain of bare rock speared the sky with spires and columns. Near-vertical sides rose out of the ground like a jagged piece of earth's bone. It looked to Blaster like the remains of a volcanic neck.

"_That_," Brom said, pointing, "is Helgrind. It's the reason Dras-Leona was originally built. People are fascinated by it, even though it's an unhealthy and malevolent thing." He gestured at the buildings inside the city wall. "We should go to the center of the city first."

They crept along the road to Dras-Leona. Eragon noticed the giant cathedral, the largest building behind the walls. It looked almost exactly like Helgrind. "Who do they worship?" he asked.

"Their prayers go to Helgrind," Brom said in distaste. "It's a cruel religion they practice. They drink human blood and make flesh offerings. Priests often lack body parts because they believe that the less bone and sinew you keep, the less you're attached to the mortal world. They spend much of their time arguing about which of Helgrind's three peaks is the highest and most important, and whether or not the fourth and lowest should be included in the worship."

"That's terrible," Blaster said, shuddering. "All that just to worship a geological feature that was, many millennia ago, a volcano?"

"Yes," Brom said, "But don't say it's terrible to a believer. You'll likely lose a hand in 'penance.'"

"Thanks for the tip," Blaster muttered.

They passed into the walls without incident, even with ten guards on either side of the gate scanning the crowd. Inside, the buildings were tall and thin to compensate for the space. Or rather, the lack thereof. Most buildings hung over the street, obscuring the sky. Nearly all of the houses were made of the same brown wood, darkening the city even more. The streets were filthy and the air reeked like a sewer. It even overpowered Blaster's sense of smell.

Ragged children ran between houses, fighting over scraps of bread. Beggars crouched next to the entrance gates, pleading for money. Cries for help came from nearly everywhere, and it sounded like a chorus of the damned. Eragon's anger flared up as he said, "I won't stay here."

"It gets better farther in," Brom said. "Right now we need to find an inn and form a strategy. Dras-Leona can be a dangerous place to even the most cautious. I don't want to remain on the streets any longer than necessary."

Blaster nodded under his cloak and they trudged onwards. They left the entrance behind and entered wealthier parts of the city. Even Blaster thought, _How could these people live in such houses with ease when it is obvious those around them are struggling to survive?_ They soon found the Golden Globe, a cheap but not decrepit inn. A narrow bed was crammed against one wall with a rickety table and a basin alongside it. Eragon looked at the mattress and said, "I'm sleeping on the floor. There are probably enough bugs in that to eat me alive."

"Well, I wouldn't want to deprive them of a meal," Brom said. Blaster took a wooden chair. Brom and Eragon set their bags down and Eragon removed his bow.

"What now?" Eragon asked.

"We find food and beer," Brom replied. "After that, sleep. Tomorrow we can start looking for the Ra'zac." Before they left, he warned, "No matter what happens, make sure your tongue doesn't loosen. We'll have to leave immediately if we're given away."

The inn's food was barely adequate, but the beer was excellent, even for Blaster. He still felt some of the effects of the beer, yet was able to remain completely in control of his brain. Though, too be fair, he always practiced moderation. By the time they stumbled back to the room, Eragon felt like his head was swimming. Brom was no better.

Before Blaster went into his meditative state, he contacted Sara.

_We're gonna be here for a few days,_ Blaster said. _Not as long as in Teirm. When we discover where the Ra'zac are, you and Saphira might be able to help us get them. I will talk to you again in the morning._

_Have you been drinking?_ Sara asked. When Blaster said yes, she sent the sound of her clicking her tongue in disproval. _I won't envy you in the morning._

_Brom and Eragon will_, Blaster admitted. _Eragon had about as much as me, and he's out of it. Brom…he had twice as much as Eragon or myself._

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

"What was I thinking?" Eragon groaned.

"How do you feel?" Blaster asked smugly. Eragon ignored him. "That good, huh?" He couldn't complain much anyway, since he had a small headache himself.

Brom rolled out of bed moments later. He doused his head in cold water from the basin, then left the room. Eragon followed him into the hallway, and then down to the lobby where the two recuperated from their hangovers.

_Amazing what a simple drink will do to a person_, Sara thought.

_Could have been worse,_ Blaster said. He donned his cloak again, and placed a simple wallet into the inside pocket. _Let's hope we find something._

Brom and Eragon returned to the room just as Blaster had finished holstering his guns. Brom belted his sword and smoothed out the wrinkles in his robes. "The first thing we need to do is ask some discreet questions. I want to find out where the Seithr oil was delivered in Dras-Leona, and where it was taken from there. Most likely, soldiers or workers were involved. We have to find those men and get one of them to talk."

They took to the streets in search of warehouses where the oil might have been delivered. They approached the center where a palace rose up on a rise, built out of polished granite, and was taller than all but the cathedral. Soldiers stationed every four or five yards watched passersby keenly as they guarded the wall of the palace.

"I wonder who lives here," Blaster said more to himself than anything.

"Marcus Tábor, ruler of this city," Brom said. "He answers only to the king and his own conscience, which hasn't been very active recently." They all walked around the palace.

By midday, they found no useful info, so they stopped for lunch. Brom suggested that they split up to cover more ground, then meet back in the room by dusk. Blaster agreed then hurried away. He came upon a small group of soldiers on break. With a quick flash of his wallet, the soldiers were suddenly rather cooperative, and he found out some rather interesting information. As soon as he was done, he went back to the Golden Globe just as Brom was returning.

"Find anything?" Eragon asked as they entered the room. He had been there for an hour.

"I caught something rather interesting," Blaster said. "Apparently, our 'lord and master' will visit Dras-Leona within the week."

"What?" Eragon exclaimed.

"It seems that our good buddy Tábor has taken a few too many liberties with his power, so Galbatorix has decided to come and teach him a lesson in humility. Reportedly, it's the first time he's left Urû'baen in over ten years."

"Do you think he knows of us?" Eragon asked.

"Of course he _knows_ of us, but I'm sure he hasn't been told our location," Brom said. "If he had, we would already be in the Ra'zac's grasp. However, this means that whatever we're going to do about the Ra'zac must be done before Galbatorix shows up. We don't want to be anywhere within a hundred miles of him. The one thing we have in our favor is that the Ra'zac are sure to be here, planning for his visit."

"I want to get the Ra'zac," Eragon said, hands tightening into fists, "but not if it means fighting the king. He could probably tear us to pieces."

"Very good: caution," Brom said, amused. "And you're right; you wouldn't stand a chance against Galbatorix. Now, tell me, what have you learned today? It might confirm what I have heard."

"I heard nothing but that news from some soldiers on break," Blaster said. "They were rather cooperative once they found out I was investigating a murder. They said that they have seen the oil in question, yet failed to divulge further. I did find out that your mystery woman isn't in the dungeons, Eragon. Maybe they are elsewhere."

"I talked to a man who knew where the oil was taken," Eragon said. "It's just an old warehouse. Other than that, I didn't discover anything useful."

"Then my day was more fruitful than yours," Brom said. "I heard the same thing you did, so I went to the warehouse and talked to the workers. Took much cajoling before they revealed that the cases are always sent from the warehouse to the palace."

"And that's when you came back here," Eragon said.

"Don't interrupt," Blaster said. "He may have more. Never assume you have all the information until you are absolutely sure."

"You are correct," Brom said. "After that, I went to the palace and got myself invited to the servant's quarters as a bard. For several hours, I wandered about, amusing the maids and others with songs and poems—asking questions all the while." He slowly filled his pipe. "It's rather amazing what servants find out. Did you know that one of the earls has _three_ mistresses, and they all live in the same wing of the palace?" He shook his head and lit his pipe. "Anyway, I was told, quite by accident, where the oil is taken from the palace."

"And that is...?" Eragon asked impatiently.

"Out of the city," Brom said, blowing out a smoke ring. "Every full moon two slaves are sent to the base of Helgrind with a month's provisions. Whenever the Seithr oil arrives in Dras-Leona, they send it along with the provisions. The slaves are never seen again. And the one time someone followed them, he disappeared too."

"I thought the Riders demolished the slave trade," Eragon said.

"It must have flourished sometime after Galbatorix rose to power," Blaster suggested. He turned to Brom. "So, the Ra'zac are in Helgrind?"

"Or somewhere nearby," Brom added.

"If they _are_," Eragon said, "they'll either be at the base, where thick stone doors protect them, or higher up, where their steeds, or Saphira and Sara can reach. Either way, their shelter will be disguised well." He paused. "If Saphira and I go flying around Helgrind, the Ra'zac are sure to see us."

"Not to mention all of Dras-Leona," Blaster said. "A risk I'm not willing to let you take, nor will I take such a risk."

"What if we took the place of the two slaves?" Eragon suggested. "The full moon isn't that far off. It would give us a perfect opportunity to get close to the Ra'zac."

Brom tugged at his beard, thoughtfully. "That's chancy at best. If the slaves are killed from a distance, we'll be in trouble. We can't harm the Ra'zac if they aren't in sight."

"I'm not entirely convinced they were killed at all," Blaster said. "But, some nagging feeling in the back of my mind tells me they were." He paused. "It's still a rather good idea. If it were done with Saphira and Sara hidden nearby, myself hidden elsewhere with my rifle, and…" he trailed off. "I think it might actually work! But, we haven't got much time, what with the king coming."

"Should we go to Helgrind and take a look around?" Eragon asked. "It would be good to see the land in daylight so we won't be surprised by any ambushes."

"That can be done later," Brom said. "Tomorrow I'll return to the palace and figure out how we can replace the slaves. I have to be careful not to arouse suspicion, though—I could easily be revealed by spies and courtiers who know about the Ra'zac."

"So, we finally found them," Blaster said. The thought of Garrow as he breathed his last filled his mind.

"The toughest part is yet to come, but yes, we've done well," Brom said. "If fortune smiles upon us, you may soon have your revenge, Eragon, and your justice, Blaster, and the Varden will be rid of a dangerous enemy. What comes after that will be up to you."

_Sara,_ Blaster said, opening his mind to his dragon. _We have found where the Ra'zac make berth. They hide inside or near Helgrind._

_A fitting place for them to hide_, Sara mused.

_Once we're done here, I'm going to see if I can find Char_, Blaster said. _From there, I will see what I can do to help fight against Galbatorix. I have no desire, nor will I ever have the desire to join him. Nor will I allow these injustices to go unpunished._

_A wise decision_, Sara said. They parted ways for the night.

* * *

><p><strong>Will they finally kill the Ra'zac? Where is Char located? And what will be the next course of action? Find out the answers to these questions and more next time on <em>Free<em>** _**Riders.**_

Please R&R. Also note that I referenced _Star Wars_ in Blaster's little description of Dras-Leona. _Star Wars_ belongs to George Lucas.


	28. Ch27: The Ra'zac

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit. From this chapter on, the original story changes.

Chapter 27: The Ra'zac

Blaster "woke" the next morning with only Eragon as company. A note written by Brom was sprawled across the wall. He would be gone until later that night, and the two could explore the city and enjoy themselves just so long as they didn't attract attention. Blaster was specifically asked to make sure Eragon was to keep appearances, took his bow, and avoided the palace.

"Great," Blaster muttered, as Eragon was still sleeping. "Go from alien rider to babysitter." Eragon woke a few moments later, read the note, then retrieved money Brom had left under the bed. He slipped his bow across his back, then left with Blaster.

There were many intriguing stores along the streets, though none were quite as interesting as Angela's herb shop in Teirm. Occasionally, they'd look at the dark and claustrophobic houses. There was something about them that made Blaster want to return to the confines of his own ship. They grew hungry around noon, so they bought food and ate on a curb.

The sound of an auctioneer rattling off prices could be heard. Being curious, the two headed towards the voice and arrived at a small open square. Ten men stood on a waist-high platform, and a richly dressed crowd was before them. Blaster felt that something was off, but began to wonder what the auctioneer was selling.

He didn't have to wait long as the auctioneer finished his list and motioned for a young man to join him on the stage. The man awkwardly climbed up, chains dragging at his hands and feet. It then it hit Blaster. It was a slave auction.

"And here's our first item up for bid," The auctioneer proclaimed. "A healthy male from the Hadarac Desert, captured just last month. Excellent condition. Look at his arms and legs; he's strong as a bull! Perfect as a shield bearer, or, if you don't trust him for that, hard labor. Bright as a nail, if you can get him to talk a civilized tongue."

Blaster felt power rising, but not within himself. It was Eragon. He raised his right arm, newly liberated from the splint. Blaster placed a hand on his shoulder, which made him stop.

_He'd never get away,_ Blaster said. _He'd be caught before he even reached the city walls._

Eragon nodded, and watched helplessly as the slave was sold to a tall, hawk-nosed man. The next slave was a young girl, no more than six, wrenched from the arms of her crying mother. That struck a nerve with Blaster, and he decided to invoke his own magic.

"Jinca ga muter a we les er dutar," Blaster muttered. He felt the drain to his magic supply, but was glad that it didn't take more than the energy it took to sprint fifty yards.

"What?" Eragon asked.

"I invoked my magic," Blaster whispered. "Now, the person who buys the girl will buy the mother as well." He paused. "May fortune smile upon them."

The two swiftly left, still filled with anger. They merely meandered around on the streets. Once they had calmed down enough to regain their bearings, they realized they were in front of the cathedral. Snarling gargoyles perched on the eaves of the building, beasts were on the walls, heroes and kings marching along the bottom edge. Like all cathedrals, there were stained glass windows galore, but there was only one turret. An iron bound door was inlayed with script, which read, "May thee who enter here understand thine impermanence and forget thine attachments to that which is beloved" in the Ancient Language.

The two riders approached the door, and slowly opened the door to have a look inside. It was empty inside, and it was cooler inside than outside. The vaulted ceiling was so high, Blaster would have to fly himself up to reach them. Between the stained glass windows stood statues with rigid, pale eyes. They walked up the center row slowly, even though their boots padded noiselessly on the polished stone floor.

A single finger of light illuminated the golden dust in the air above the altar. Behind it was the wind organ whose pipes pierced the ceiling. Eragon knelt out of respect, while Blaster merely bowed his head. The alien felt something behind them, but waited for Eragon to be done before turning. When he did finally rise, the two turned around, and Blaster's stomach flip-flopped.

The Ra'zac were at the door.

Blaster got in front of Eragon and looked directly at the Ra'zac. Their swords were drawn, tinted red from the light, but Blaster didn't care as he pulled out one of his two pistols.

"Ra'zac," Blaster said, with all the authority he could muster, "you are both under arrest for the first-degree murder of Garrow of Carvahall. Will you come quietly?" The Ra'zac screeched, and at least fifty soldiers filed into the cathedral.

"There goes our escape," Eragon muttered.

"Take the back exit," Blaster whispered. "Warn Brom. I'll meet up with you later. Don't worry, I'll be fine." Eragon nodded, then ran to the back door. The Ra'zac began to chase after Eragon, but Blaster stopped them both with a pair of bullets. He pulled out his other pistol. "If anyone attacks, I'll shoot!"

The soldiers began advancing en masse. Blaster emptied the clips, but was only able to take out barely a dozen and a half before his bullets ran out. He holstered one of his pistols, then held out his free hand, sending the front group flying backwards. Blaster holstered his other pistol, then withdrew his short sword. He blocked attacks that were now coming from all angles except behind him. _I'm surprised these guys don't practice mook chivalry,_ he thought, dodging three potential killing blows. Once he had effectively slowed down the soldiers for enough, he leapt backwards far enough to give himself a reprieve. Blaster's eyes glowed red slightly as he raised his hand. The earth beneath him rose, effectively cutting him off from his attackers. In the last seconds before his view of the attackers was blocked, he lost sight of the Ra'zac. He broke through a window, vaulted over the wall, and decided it was time to get out.

With inhuman speed, he raced to the Golden Globe and got to the room just as Eragon and Brom had finished packing.

"Time to go," Blaster breathed. "We need to get out of here before they close the gates!"

"If they haven't already," Brom deadpanned.

The trio quickly departed and mounted their steeds. Soldiers came into view moments later. The three urged their horses into a gallop, Snowfire in front of Cadoc and Samson. Several times, they nearly crashed as they plunged through the streets full of people. When the gates finally came into view, Blaster's stomach flip-flopped again. The gates were already half-closed, and a double line of pikemen blocked their way.

"They'll cut us to pieces," Eragon exclaimed.

"Leave them to me," Blaster shouted. He jumped off Samson and sped towards the gates faster than the horses. As he got closer, the pikemen, clearly unnerved that Blaster was going so fast, lowered their pikes, bracing them against the ground. Blaster smirked, then put both hands in front of him, and then spread them as if he was splitting apart two halves of a curtain. An invisible force caused the pikemen to be shunted to either side. He stopped under the gate, then thrust his hands up, causing the gate to come to a grinding halt. Everyone remained silent, amazed at the feat.

Once Eragon, Brom, and Samson sped under the gate, Blaster stopped his telekinesis and gripped Samson to swing back into the saddle. The gates boomed shut. Alarm trumpets sounded as they raced through the outskirts of Dras-Leona. Saphira and Sara hid behind some trees by the edge of the city. Their eyes burned and their tails whipped back and forth.

"Ride them," Brom said. "And this time, stay in the air, no matter what happens to me. I'll head south. Fly nearby; I don't care if they're seen."

Blaster quickly told Samson to follow Brom at all costs, then mounted Sara.

_Are you all right?_ Sara asked.

_Yeah,_ Blaster replied, his anger getting the best of him. _Damn! We had them and we let them go. If only there weren't so many soldiers there._

_You did your best,_ Sara replied. _But now, we must be careful. Our exit wasn't exactly discrete._

_I'm aware,_ Blaster admitted. _Watch the deck. We're gonna have to fly low and fast. I have an idea, and I'm sure Brom's not going to like it._ With a thought, he contacted Brom. _Brom, I've made a decision, albeit hasty in your opinion. I'm breaking off, giving the Ra'zac two targets to follow. I know they probably wouldn't tackle a _fair_ five-on-two battle, so I'm going to have them choose between a three-on-two, or a two-on-two match-up._

_ WHAT?_ Brom's shout was so powerful, it startled the birds. _Are you kidding? We must stick together. What happens if the Ra'zac catch you at night, when they are stronger._

_ They may be the stronger, but I am wise in thoughts. Do not argue, for I sense that a storm approaches, and you have little time left to flee. I will make sure that they know where the easy pickings are, and hope that they follow._ Blaster thought over the plan as the storm clouds started to billow. _Brom, you are going to have to trust me on this one._

In Blaster's mind, he saw Brom nodding. _I will inform Eragon and Saphira. Good luck, Major General Blastbone Clarkson. Atra esterní ono thelduin._

_ Kai fertuna drah hugan lu,_ Blaster replied (a). _Just, get out of here while you still can. I shall meet with you later, if I am able._

_ Take care of yourself,_ Brom warned. Blaster sent an image of him nodding.

_Okay, Saranya_, Blaster said, a hint of madness, anger, and joy in his voice. _Let's give the Ra'zac a meaning for splitting off to fight me. Bank to vector zero-niner. Deck is now only fifty feet. Give me a moment to hide the horses tracks before further instructions._ Blaster turned around and, with a simple wave of his hands, the same invisible force that knocked the soldiers aside obliterated the horses' hoof prints for a good half mile. What he did next was start moving his fists up and down as if he were playing a drum roll. Behind him, a fresh set of hoof prints started where the obliteration started and curved towards where he and Sara were flying.

_I hope you know what you are doing,_ Sara said.

_I know what I'm doing,_ Blaster said. _Trying to keep Brom and Eragon safe. Whether that succeeds or not is to be determined._ The day slowly wore on, the storm growing in size. As lightning forked the skies, Blaster saw the gust front off of the rear-flank downdraft and ordered Sara to land. They continued on foot until the storm and sundown caused them to stop for the night. They found a slight gully surrounded on all sides by large boulders, yet it had a few entry points.

Blaster started a small fire, not caring that he was starting to get hungry. If all else failed, he could summon some of his MREs from Alice in a flash of light to keep him from falling victim to hunger. Before either of them could talk, both Blaster and Sara heard footsteps. Sensing danger, Blaster quickly douced the flames and ordered Sara to fly, and land a safe distance away. Blaster unbuttoned the restraining strap holding his pistols in the holsters, and prepared to draw his sword. He never got the chance as a heavy blow to the back of his head knocked him out.

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

Sara looked on in anger as Blaster was bound by the Ra'zac that emerged from the shadows. There were two of them, one slightly larger than the other, each one holding a lantern. Blaster's saddle bags were splayed open, showing various items, including his guns, though they all looked nothing like weapons from Sara's standpoint. She growled a bit, trying in earnest to contact Blaster, but with him knocked out, and some sort of field surrounding his mind, she couldn't get to him.

_Must have been whatever they forced him to drink,_ Sara thought to herself. She looked over to Blaster as he began to wake up. _If only I could help him without risking our lives._

He moaned as his head began to throb. Mere moments later, the larger of the two Ra'zac appeared above him, snickering. Sara's blood began to boil in anger. She had to do something, but with their speed and strength, especially at night, she couldn't think of anything effective enough.

"I sssee the drug isss working, yessss?" the larger Ra'zac hissed. "You won't be troubling ussss again."

"Ha," Blaster shouted in defiance, his speech slightly slurred. "You'll find I'm more trouble than it's worth."

"I haven't found the otherssss," the smaller Ra'zac exclaimed. Sara could barely make out Blaster's smirk in the lantern light.

"Pretty nice plan, huh?" Blaster taunted. "Perhaps you bit off more than you could chew with someone like me. You're going to have a fun time trying to find out where the others went."

Sara heard some rocks shifting behind her and missed the Ra'zac's reaction to Blaster's comment. She spun her snake-like head and looked directly at a man roughly Blaster's age carrying an elegant bow in his hands. His clothes were tattered and worn, but fit him well. Before Sara could start growling a warning, the man held a finger to his lips, then knocked an arrow from the quiver slung on his back. He disappeared behind one of the boulders just as Blaster spat in the Ra'zac's face.

"How dare you call me and my dragon disposable!" Blaster roared. "You're no 've killed without remorse, and you've decided to add kidnapping and unlawful imprisonment on myself. Just wait until I get my hands on you."

"We should kill him," The smaller Ra'zac said.

"What do we tell _him_?" The larger asked.

"That he was killed because he tried to escape," the smaller replied, mischieviously. "That way, there is only one dragon and rider left to oppose our master."

"I can still hear you," Blaster taunted. He no longer had slurred speech. "And it was so nice of you to drug me, but I must warn you about one thing that you should never forget."

"Oh, and what is that?" the larger Ra'zac taunted.

"Never gloat over and plot to kill your prisoner until you are sure there is no way they can fight back."

As if the ground he was on was suddenly electrified, Blaster jumped from his back to a standing position. A quick yank and the ropes around his wrists snapped. Using his telekinesis, Blaster summoned Cratona from where the Ra'zac had dropped it and brought it up quickly to block the blade of the larger Ra'zac. Blaster ducked just as a low hum filled the air. The larger Ra'zac dove to the side, but the smaller soon had an arrow sticking out of its leg.

The arrows didn't stop coming for several minutes, forcing Blaster to bob and weave just to avoid getting hit by the arrows. Sara saw a second too late that Blaster had blocked a high sword swing, but was unable to block the knife that the larger Ra'zac had pulled out. Sara roared as the blade grazed Blaster's side, barely drawing blood, alerting the smaller Ra'zac to her positon. She didn't care. The arrows stopped falling long enough for the smaller to approach Sara, but the arrows started again when the Ra'zac was within ten yards of her. This time, however, the arrows came from an entirely different direction.

Blaster didn't look as if he was in pain, so the wound wasn't as bad as Sara had first envisioned. The larger Ra'zac was soon the one dodging, as arrows and Blaster's improved sword swings came heavy on him. He dropped the knife and tried to hide, only for the arrows to come from a third direction. The Ra'zac began to flee, but the smaller of the two was smart enough to pick up the knife. At the edge of the camp, the Ra'zac hurled the knife at Blaster. Sara roared again as she heard the soft thump of blade in skin, and saw Blaster fall down in pain. Before they could celebrate, though, the Ra'zac were forced to flee further when Blaster summoned his pistol and emptied the clip in their direction.

* * *

><p><strong>Will Brom and Eragon survive the night? Did Blaster get a dose of the bad Seithr Oil? How will the teams proceed from here? Find out in the next chapter of <em>Free Riders. <em> Now updating Tuesdays and Fridays again (since I am almost done with typing up this story).  
><strong>

**(a) Translation: May good fortune wash over you.**

Please R&R. I know the story has just changed, and it will take out some things, but, to let you know, there are some important things that will stay the same. And, to all those reading wondering if Blaster is desensitized to Char's absence (for nearly half a year), he will finally be going in after her starting next chapter.


	29. Ch28: Murtagh

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 28: Murtagh

As the final shot rang out, Blaster nearly fell to the ground, weakened by the drug and the amount of power he had used to both break his bonds and fight the Ra'zac. He slowly pulled the blade from his left arm before he realized someone was walking into the camp.

"What the _hell_ was that?" a man's voice said.

Blaster turned around and saw a young man, dressed in tattered clothes, a hand-and-a-half sword on his belt and a bow in his left hand, both of the finest make. His right hand was digging out something from his right ear. Blaster could see the hilt of a dagger protruding from his boot. He had fierce eyes and brown hair, and about the same size as Blaster, though he looked just as young.

"And you are?" Blaster asked, cringing in pain and scowling in anger.

"Murtagh," the man said. He stopped digging at his ear as Sara walked into camp as well.

_How are you doing?_ Sara said. It was the first contact that he had received from his dragon since the drug.

_Head's buzzing and my arm feels like it's on fire, but other than that fine._

_ Is it a serious wound?_

_ I hope not._ He sat in front of the lantern, looking at the wound for a few seconds before covering it with his hand. "Murtagh, would you get me my med kit? It's a white bag that has a red plus-sign on the side."

Murtagh was over him in an instant with the bag. Nearly ripping the bag open, Blaster found two vials, one full of blue liquid, the other green. Using his non-injured arm, he pulled the stoppers on both vials and downed them in a single swig, the combination turning yellow for the second it was visible. The wound on Blaster's side healed up nicely, but the wound on the arm was still bleeding. Rolling up the sleeve, Blaster took another green vial and poured it over the wound. He winced as the potion burned, but he was able to slow the bleeding and heal the wound slightly.

Murtagh went off to do his own thing after a while, knowing Blaster was tending to his own wounds well. Taking some water from his canteen, he rinsed the wound. Then, he pulled a field dressing from his med kit, unraveled it, and wrapped it as tightly as he could around his wounded arm. Testing out the arm, Blaster found he had lost a little bit of functionality in the arm due to the injury, but nothing that would be permanent. He walked over to the fire that Murtagh started, Sara standing nearby.

"Did it work?" Murtagh asked as Blaster finally finished.

"Yeah, I'll be fine," Blaster replied. "It's just a nick to the arm. So, why help us?"

"You aren't the only enemies the Ra'zac have. I've been tracking them."

"We should skedaddle before they return with reinforcements."

"Sure, you might be able to travel," Murtagh said, "but you can't do much heavy lifting."

Blaster stuffed his pistols back into their holsters, put his revolver back in the bag with his black cloak. "Your assistance is not required, but it would be nice to have someone help out. Not to say anything, but if it came to a fight, I don't know what I would do if I could only fight with one hand."

"Alright," Murtagh said. "Where is your horse?"

"I do not have a horse," Blaster said. "I rode here on Sara." Upon looking at Murtagh's confusion, he added, "The dragon behind you."

"Ah," Murtagh said. Before he could say anything else, Blaster's wrist computer started ringing.

"Crap," Blaster muttered. "Not now, Alice. I've got other things to do. Like, hide."

"Do you have a spot in mind?" Blaster shook his head. "Then let's find somewhere."

"I'm going to run with Murtagh, okay Sara?" Blaster placed a hand on Sara's snout.

_Of course,_ she replied, bobbing her head. With a massive beat of her wings and a powerful thrust from her legs, she took to the skies and glided into the darkness.

"I never thought I would see a sight like that," Murtagh said.

"You do know that you will be in danger if the Empire finds you with us," Blaster said. "We won't be able to protect you, and I don't want to see you hurt on our account."

"I have nowhere better to go, and, if I stay with you, I might get another chance at the Ra'zac sooner than if I were alone. Interesting things are bound to happen around a Rider."

"Be cautious," Blaster said. Murtagh nodded and mounted his grey warhorse. Blaster double checked everything, made sure he gathered all his supplies, then obliterated everything they had evidence wise of their departure with the wave of a hand. He turned to follow Murtagh on foot.

The night's moon was oxbow in shape and threw very little light upon the world, but any more would give the Ra'zac an advantage when tracking them. They continued silently, conserving energy while they rode/walked. It was roughly dawn when Sara contacted Blaster about a location for the night two miles ahead of them.

They found her at the base of a broad sandstone formation that looked like a great hill. Hidden in the sides were various sized caves. Similar hills adorned the land in a random arrangement. Sara looked pleased with herself. _I found a cave that can't be seen from the ground. It is large enough for all of us and then some, including the horse. Follow me._ She climbed up the sandstone, digging into the rock with her sharp talons. The horse had difficulty as its shod hooves weren't able to grip the rock. An hour of hard work was what it took to get the horse to the cave.

The cave in question was at least a hundred feet long, at least thirty feet wide, and a small opening that would provide protection against unwanted eyes and bad weather. Darkness swallowed the far ends, keeping to the walls and floor.

"Very impressive," Murtagh said. "I'll gather wood for a fire."

Blaster nodded and began to organize his bag. Upon looking in, he realized he had left his sniper-rifle and AK with Samson. He'd be hard pressed to try to get them back at all. Though, they weren't of any use to anybody as the weapons were unloaded. The most they could be used for were bludgeoning people. Just as Blaster settled down, his wrist computer began to ring again. This time, he answered.

"_Don't you EVER hang up on me again!_" Alice shouted. "_It is important that I talk to you!_"

"Okay, okay," Blaster replied, calming the computer down. He could hear Sara snickering in the background. "What is it?"

"Char just pinged to your north," Alice replied.

"What do you mean by 'pinged'?"

"Her high-frequency distress beacon went off for a few seconds."

"HF distress beacon?" Blaster thought for a moment, then his eyes bulged. "Those only go off if…"

"Someone wearing a bracelet is either seriously injured or they are just about to die," Alice finished. "I'm thinking it was the former, as, if my memory banks are serving me correctly, it takes Char at least twelve hours to fully recover from dieing."

"Yes, but that's only because of her genes," Blaster said. "She didn't get much of the Torillian genes compared to me. Did you pinpoint a location?"

"No," Alice replied. "All I know is that the signal originated from up north. That's all I know."

"Thanks," Blaster said, trying his best to hold back his anger. "I'll be in contact with you again soon. Let me know if she pings again."

"I might," Alice muttered before closing the connection.

Blaster settled down to check his dressing again, but he was still giving off the vibe that he was furious. The dressing hadn't soaked completely through, which pleased him. Murtagh arrived a few moments later with enough wood to start a fire.

"So," Murtagh finally said as the fire lit and took off. "You have any plans?"

"Yes," Blaster replied, a passion in his voice accompanying the anger. "Head north, after a friend of mine. I think she might be somewhere up there."

"And I'll accompany you," Murtagh said.

"Wait, what?"

"You are injured, and you'll need someone to heft a sword for you. It's the least you could let me do for saving your life." The look on Murtagh's face nearly sealed the deal. However, Blaster was more interested in the offer than Murtagh's pleading face.

"Well, as I am sure you are as exhausted as we are, I suggest we rest up," Blaster finally said, pulling out his cloak for warmth. "Tomorrow, we head north."

"And you're taking me with you?"

"Why do you assume that by 'we,' I only mean Sara and myself?"

"So, that's a yes," Murtagh pressed.

"Yes, you may come," Blaster said. "However, just so you know, we won't be riding slow. As soon as we get to a small town nearby, I will buy another horse so as to keep up with you and make some time. My friend is in a prison somewhere." Blaster settled down. "Let's just get some rest and figure out a game-plan later."

Murtagh reluctantly agreed and the two fell asleep.

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

Eragon woke with a start, Brom shaking him from his slumber. The fact that they were both still alive was proof that they were spared an encounter from the Ra'zac last night. Saphira stirred as well, rustling her scales as she stood up. A loud crack could be heard as she arched her back, but no one questioned it. In fact, Saphira arched her back again and managed a smaller crack from her back. Relieved, she sat by the fire.

"Do you think he's still alive?" Eragon asked Brom as the two started their breakfast.

"I don't know for sure," Brom said. "But we can find out." He held out a bowl, filled it with water and muttered "Draumr kópa." Instantly, an image of Blaster appeared. He was on his back, covered in his black cloak. Were it not for the steady rise and fall of the cloak, the two would have thought he was dead. He stirred, but didn't wake up. Satisfied, Brom closed the link and released the magic.

"Now what do we do?" Eragon asked. He packed up the bags and prepared for their flight to continue.

"Now?" Brom replied. "Now, we find a way to get to the Varden."

"But, I never got the chance to kill them?"

"Doesn't matter," Brom said flatly. "If they told Galbatorix, then you'd be hard-pressed to find a chance to tackle them again. As I said last night. Dras-Leona is closed to us for several years, and with Galbatorix learning that you may be a threat, the only safe haven for you is with the Varden."

"And then?"

"Then, you will be trained by the elves until you are capable of being called a true Rider," Brom said.

"What?" Eragon was practically in shock at this revelation.

"You will be led into the heart of Du Weldenvarden to complete your training as a Rider by the elves." Brom looked slightly depressed. "It would have happened anyway, and definitely would have happened sooner if I had passed away before the eggs hatched."

"But, Blaster's training," Eragon said.

"His training has been nearly complete for a while now," Brom said. "He's one of the two best students I've ever had, the other being you, of course."

"So, I'm almost done too."

"Yes. Your swordsmanship has improved greatly, your magic is coming along nicely, but I'm going to take this time to teach you the grammar of the Ancient Language. But, I will warn you now, your elven teacher will be much more strict that I have been. He will test you himself, so be sure to show him what you've got." Brom smiled. "You have come quite a long way, Eragon. From simple farmer almost to a battle-worn Rider."

Eragon nodded in agreement, saddled up the horses and, with one look at Samson, thought about Blaster again. Eragon suggested they take the saddlebags and sell the chestnut, but Brom protested strongly. "If Blaster were to return, what would he ride in place of Sara?" Eragon finally relented and tied Samson to Cadoc and left their camp. Saphira took flight a few moments later, following them to the south, hoping to get as far away from the Dark Gates as possible.

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

Blaster stirred late in the morning, realizing that he had actually fallen asleep instead of meditating for the first time in ages. Murtagh was still asleep, causing Blaster to smirk a bit. Even when he did need to sleep, he didn't need more than a few hours. Sara was asleep in the corner, a slight rumble in her breath as she slept. _Great_, Blaster thought. _She snores in her sleep._ Shaking his head and smiling in amusement, he walked over to the cave entrance.

Just outside was a white backpack with a red cross on the side of it. Blaster nearly ripped it wide open to see what was inside and was surprised to find that there were a number of wrapped field dressings, ready to be used. _Thanks, Alice_. Taking one, he removed the used field dressing, noticing that it had finally soaked through during his time asleep. He rinsed it with water from his canteen, made sure it was healing well enough with the oil now in his system, and wrapped the wound with a fresh dressing, trying his best to keep it tight. Flexing his arm yielded a slight improvement.

Once he was finished repacking the medical supplies, he looked over to Murtagh and Sara before he thought of the reason why they were the only two in the cave with him. Quietly, Blaster poured some water into a small bowl and called upon his magic. Uttering the ancient language, he thought of Brom, Eragon, and Saphira and was amazed to see them riding. All of them alive and riding, Samson led by Eragon and Cadoc.

Relieved, Blaster settled down. He had to think about what was up north, plot a path, and try his best not to get himself, Murtagh, or Sara in any danger. And, after looking at his map on his wrist computer, he needed to get around Urû'baen, and, if he were to find Char in Gil'ead, even with his left arm functional, he'd need all the help he could get.

* * *

><p><strong>Will Brom and Eragon survive another night? Will Char be in Gil'ead? Can Blaster heal quickly enough to help save her? Find out next time on <em>Free Riders. <em> Now updating Tuesdays and Fridays.**

Please R&R. Blaster will follow Eragon's path closely, just so you are aware. There will be some things that don't happen in this story that do happen in the actual book, so the story line is still similar, just the actual story has been changed dramatically from this point on.


	30. Ch29: The Road to Gil'ead

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 29: The Road to Gil'ead, City of Soldiers

"How long will it take to get to the Varden?" Eragon asked.

"Several days," Brom said. "Might take one extra day than normal if we were to skirt around Furnost, for I am certain that information of us has reached them."

"And what about our supplies and water?"

"Eragon, there is one thing you should learn about the earth," Brom said. "Even on bare ground, there is always water below the surface. Anyone learned in magic could summon it from the depths and refill any watering hole they make so long as they have the power."

"And you know this from your mentor?" Eragon asked.

"Yes, Eragon. My mentor and teacher taught me about a lot of things that I do not have the right to tell you yet. I am not certain you will get to meet him, but you might have that opportunity to if fortune smiles upon us." Brom slapped his hands together. "Now, I have taught you a lot about what the ancient language does and how to pronounce most things, but you are not able to continue without a little bit of grammar. Saying something just one tiny bit wrong could give you unexpected results.

"Take for example a kind of shielding spell. If you were to say skölir instead of skölir_o_ when attempting to shield someone, you would be turning them into a shield instead of shielding him."

"So, it is more complex than you let on," Eragon sighed. Brom merely nodded in agreement. "Just when I thought things couldn't get more difficult—"

"Don't worry," Brom replied. "It's no different from verb conjugation in our language. My only issue is that Blaster's not going to be able to learn of this for a while, but I have faith in that he will not be so pressed to try to conjugate on the fly."

"But you said he was far ahead in his lessons."

"Not far enough to learn this." Brom smiled. "Besides, with the type of magic he seems to possess, I doubt he'd need to learn this before he returns."

"If he returns," Eragon added.

"Have faith in him," Brom said. "He wasn't made a General for nothing. He'll be fine. Now enough about him…"

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

Sara grumbled as she searched the ground for food. She was amazed to see a herd of wild bison on the plains and pounced. Almost instantly, she saw one that was thinner and shaggier than the rest, and it didn't take long to find out that the bison was the oldest and weakest of the group. Sara nabbed the bison and, in one quick, snake-like jab, the bison's neck had snapped, killing the animal instantly. Two beats of her wings and she lifted the dead animal into the sky to have her meal in peace.

It had taken them a week to get to this place. The first day, Blaster picked up another chestnut, but hadn't named him because he couldn't choose a name. The previous day, they had reached a tributary of the Ramr River. Today, they were continuing north towards Gil'ead, the small mountain Marna off on the other side barely visible to the northwest. Sara didn't question Blaster's tactics since they never stopped to check the prisons in any of the small towns they came across. Every night, Char would "ping" on Blaster's wrist computer to the north.

Murtagh, though he didn't know much about who Char was, knew that, if there were any place in Alagaësia that Char could be, it would be in Gil'ead. Mainly an outpost for the Empire, Gil'ead was home to a number of barracks, each with hundreds of soldiers. Even Sara knew that getting into the city would be a cake-walk compared to getting out.

Sara saw the two men at a campsite they had made for the night. Murtagh had made a small fire with the tufts of grass, leaving Blaster to check his wound for the third time that day. For the past week, the wound had healed at an alarmingly quick rate compared to those inflicted on Garrow. The second night, he explained that he had an alien gene that allowed him to recover quicker from his injuries. Today, the injury was healed enough to the point of only having a thin white scar about an eighth of an inch wide and two inches long.

Blaster looked up from what was left of his wound as Sara hit the ground, pleased with herself. The dead bison at her feet was soon skinned and some of the meat taken off so that the two men had meals. Sara finished off the kill as Murtagh cooked some of the meat. She savored what flavor there was and began to listen in on the conversation between Murtagh and Blaster.

"…-ying that it is an important development," Blaster said. "I was actually able to hear Char's thoughts for the first time in forever, but that was only because she usually projects them instead of me having to go into her mind to dig them out. She's being tortured to the point of nearly being killed. All because someone found her with Sara's egg."

"And there is an elf there?" Murtagh asked. "I don't know about you, but if it is true, then that elf is the first that Galbatorix has captured. He's probably trying to prod her for information too through some surrogate. And, if it came down to rescuing one of the two, I doubt you would leave Char behind."

"You're right on that," Blaster said. "I would likely choose my fiancé over an elf if I had the choice. But, I'm not going to leave an elf in captivity, and I would choose to save the elf if Char was better off. So, what I am asking you is this: Will you accompany me to Gil'ead and help to save both Char and this elf she keeps talking about?"

"It's madness," Murtagh said.

"Madness?" Blaster's voice got that dangerous tone to it. "Madness is going into battle with a sword that should never be wielded due to its age. Madness is facing a thousand enemies yourself and trying to kill every last one of them yourself. Madness is going in behind enemy lines to save one man from a gristly fate. I'm sorry to disagree, but this plan isn't madness. It's full on insanity. But it might be crazy enough to work if we have a game plan."

"Okay, what's the plan?"

"Using the night as cover, Sara will fly the two of us in, and we will drop from above. From there, we will sneak into that castle, get into the dungeon, save Char and the elf, and then get out of here."

"Do we have a place to get Sara to pick us up?" Murtagh asked. "Because, if we don't, I suggest we use the banquet hall at the top. All we have to do is have Sara rip off the roof and fly you three out."

"I'm not leaving you behind," Blaster said. "I will not allow you to risk capture because Sara will be bearing too much weight."

"But how will she be able to take off?"

_I have been wondering that too_, Sara added. _Are you going to be using your powers?_

"I have magic that requires me to concentrate, but not use any words to use it," Blaster said. "With it, I can make us all lighter than air on Sara's back and she can fly without being hindered. That is how we will all escape."

"And you are certain of this?" Murtagh said.

_The chances of something going wrong between here and there could have devastating ramifications,_ Sara added.

"I am aware of the risks, but I believe having at least some sort of plan will allow us some sort of order" Blaster said. "If I can, I could give them a distraction."

"How so?"

"With this." Blaster pulled out an egg-shaped object with a pin in it-a grenade. "Drop this on one of the barracks and you'll get a good chunk of the other soldiers something else to worry about. I have several more that we can drop, giving them multiple distractions."

_Why? What does it do?_ Sara asked. Murtagh asked the same question a few seconds later.

"This little puppy has some minerals mined from the soil that, when given a spark, make a big boom," Blaster said, smile on his face. "Sure, this thing will cause some casualties, but, if soldiers are the only ones killed in the blast, then it would just be like casualties of war. I don't like to kill innocents, but if you wear the armor and bear the sword, then you should know the risks of the occupation."

There was a pause as it sank in. Finally, Murtagh said, "This has got to be the craziest idea I've ever heard. Since we are still about two days out, I will think about it, but it might work."

Night fell about an hour later. In the firelight, Blaster blocked his blade, then asked for Murtagh's sword so that he could protect it for a sparring match between the two of them. Murtagh agreed, but only if the blocking spell could be reversed. Once the blades were ready and tested, Murtagh attacked.

Blaster side stepped an overhead swing and went to swing at Murtagh's gut, only to have his blade stopped by Murtagh's sword. Murtagh parried another jab, hoping for Blaster to over-extend and lose balance. Unfortunately, Blaster didn't over extend, but instead feinted right and swung left. The move nearly caught Murtagh off guard, but he ducked and swung at Blaster's knees, the former jumping over and barely missing the blade. Just as Murtagh stood up, he brought up his blade, right to Blaster's neck. Blaster had likewise stopped his blade a few inches from Murtagh's heaving chest. Though the two were winded, they were evenly matched, though Blaster could have used his super speed in order to win.

"Your master Tornac was a good swordsman," Blaster said, lowering his blade. "If any were to face him in combat, they would be facing a worthy opponent. He might even be able to open a school."

"He's dead." Murtagh lowered his sword and walked away.

"I am sorry for your loss," Blaster said. "I hope it was a noble death, fighting to the end instead of being struck in his sleep."

"Oh, it was," Murtagh said. "But it happened rather recently, so the wound is still quite tender. I do not wish to talk about it further."

Blaster didn't press the issue as they ate dinner. Sara made idle conversation, still trying to find a way to trust Murtagh since they were unable to breech his mind's barriers. Knowing Brom might know what to do in this situation, Blaster thought to contact him as soon as he was done in Gil'ead. For now, he would just have to trust this strange man and hope for the best.

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

Two days after their first skirmish, Blaster and Murtagh were just outside of Gil'ead, waiting for night to fall. Murtagh, aware of the guard rotation, wanted to do the extraction as close to the rotation as possible to minimize the amount of fire they would most likely take during their grand exit. All Blaster required was that they were able to inflict as much damage to the barracks as possible.

Just an hour after darkness fell, Blaster ordered Murtagh to mount up. The two of them would be dropping off Sara right onto the rooftops dressed in black suits Murtagh had picked up at a small village store. From there, they would drop to the dungeons, find the girls, find their weapons, then high-tail it out of there as quickly as possible. If there were any hitches in the plan, which included one of the two getting captured mid-rescue, the other would leave as quickly as possible. If a rescue was possible after that, then they would go with Plan B and perform the rescue before continuing on.

Sara took to the skies and began to circle around over Gil'ead. Blaster, finding his first target, pulled the pin on one of his grenades and launched it at one of the barracks. It fell through the roof and exploded, blowing out glass windows from the nearby buildings. Blaster launched another grenade and blew up another barrack. By this time, arrows began flying, but Sara was still high enough to avoid the arrows that were aimed in their direction. Two more grenades and chaos had been sewn into the ranks of soldiers as they tried to find out who had attacked them and how to defend from the devastation.

As if on cue, the archers withdrew, ordered by their superiors to help their fallen comrades. Few remained on the rooftop Blaster and Murtagh were to land on, but they were easily dispersed by a flash-bang, a cylinder grenade that did nothing but render their enemies temporarily blind and deaf. Sara flew in low and the two dropped to the roof, barely clinging to the slate shingles. The two went through an open window and landed in the banquet hall.

Wooden tables and chairs filled with half-eaten meals remained. Torches hung on the walls between shields. Over on the one side was the door to the dungeons. Blaster gave the "forward" hand signal, and both he and Murtagh went over to the door. With a nod, Murtagh strung his bow and knocked an arrow. Blaster flung open the door and Murtagh searched for guards. Finding none, he nodded to Blaster.

The two slowly made their way down the stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible so as to not walk into a patrol. Thankfully, the route to the dungeons was eventless. The iron bound door swung open on well oiled hinges, and the two crept in to find rows of smaller iron bound doors. One by one, the two searched for Char's cell, and possibly information about the elf. They were about halfway down the little hallway when they heard the steady rhythm of steel-shod boots on the stone floor.

Blaster cursed and turned around, drawing his pistol, which had a silencer on it. He never liked the silencer, but, if he wanted to keep quiet, he would have to use it. Taking aim, he knelt down and looked right down the sights until the soldiers were in view. The first one held everyone up and looked at both Blaster and Murtagh, thinking about what was going on, before charging.

The silencer did its job as each shot fired from Blaster was muffled. Of the dozen soldiers, only about four remained with the bullets and arrows. Two more were struck by arrows and the third shot right in the head. The last one raised his shield, but Blaster shot at the exposed left leg, causing the soldier to tumble. Blaster held up a hand and approached the downed soldier.

"I have a few questions for you," Blaster said in a dangerously calm voice. "If you fail to answer, I will make you suffer. If you give me the wrong answer, I will hurt you more. Now, be nice and let's get the questions answered. Do you understand?" The soldier nodded, but clamped his mouth shut. "Now, where is the woman with the odd clothes and the elf?" The soldier's mouth remained shut. "You know how I said you would suffer if you failed to respond? I am going to place a piece of dirt in your chest. I'll make it red-hot and make sure it doesn't cool until it comes out of you, burning its way to your toes. Be comforted, for if it were a grain of sand, it would have been a slower process."

Blaster picked up a grain of dirt and, with a word, got it glowing red. It didn't burn him, but he knew it would burn the soldier. He got closer and closer until, finally, the soldier snapped.

"Don't put that in me," he cried. "The odd girl is third from the end on the left. The elf is in the second from the end on the right."

"Good," Blaster said, stopping his hand. "They will have had weapons with them. Where would they be?"

"I don't know," the soldier said. "Maybe in the guard room, but I'm not sure." Blaster got closer. "I seriously don't know!"

Blaster stopped and let the hot dirt grain drop to the ground. "I believe you. Therefore, you are free to go. Just, get yourself a good shrink." He touched a finger to the soldier's head and said "Slytha." The soldier fell to the ground almost instantly.

"Did you kill him?" Murtagh asked.

"No, merely put him to sleep," Blaster replied. "Though, if he is awoken by his superiors, then I think he would have wanted me to kill him. But let's get the girls and get out of here."

* * *

><p><strong>Will they get out in time? Are the girls still alive? Will Eragon be admitted into the Varden? Find out next time on <em>Free Riders.<em>**

****I will see about updating again today to make up for the lack of a chapter on Friday. Plus, with my new job starting on the 8th, I will be updating either really early or really late Tuesday's from now on.


	31. Ch30: Castle Escape Level Final Boss

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 30: Castle Escape Level Final Boss

It wasn't long before they found Char's cell. She was out of it for some reason, and Blaster knew that it was probably because she "pinged" several times as they approached Gil'ead. Blaster picked her up and hoisted her over his shoulder, causing her hair to fall out of its pony-tail that she usually put it in. Murtagh was at the elf's cell before Blaster could walk out of Char's. As soon as the door swung open, they saw the elf looking at them, but she closed her eyes and collapsed. Had it not been for Murtagh, she would have hit the hard floor.

"She's beautiful," Murtagh said. Blaster got a good look at the elf. She wore green leather clothing, boots, and even had leather restraining her long black hair. She had traces of blood on her angular face, and though he could barely see them, her ears came to distinct points. For a second, Blaster thought of a Vulcan that he'd seen on the tv reruns he got on his earth before snapping back to reality.

"She's injured," Blaster insisted. "We need to get her out of here. You mind carrying her?"

"I'll do it," Murtagh said. He slung the elf across his shoulders. Blaster was impressed by the ease, but, after looking at the elf's slender figure, she must have been rather light. As Murtagh passed, Blaster caught a whiff of pine trees. "Now, upstairs!"

Blaster felt a little uneasy. They listened intently for soldiers or anyone else nearby, hoping not to cross paths with them. Once they had reached the top of the stairs, Murtagh laid the elf on one of the banquet tables and looked at the ceiling with a worried expression. "Alright, you can still speak to Sara, right?"

"Of course," Blaster said, setting down Char on an adjacent table.

"Tell her to wait another five minutes," Murtagh said.

There were shouts in the distance, and soldiers marched past the banquet room entrance. "Whatever you're planning to do, I don't think we'll have much time."

"Just tell her and stay out of sight," Murtagh snapped before running off.

As he relayed the message, saying three minutes instead of five, he were alarmed to hear men coming up the stairs. Blaster quickly hid himself, Char, and the elf under one table. About ten soldiers entered the room, sweeping through it hurriedly and only checking under a few tables before continuing on their way. Once they were gone, Blaster started to plaster the wall with explosives. Seconds later, Murtagh returned carrying an assortment of weapons. He set down a strange bow, an elegant sword with no sheath, and a large bag that rattled of metal.

"I found these in the guardroom," Murtagh said. "I've never seen them before, so I assumed they belonged to either the elf or the woman."

"The bag is Char's," Blaster said. "I'll carry that one."

Murtagh picked up the sword—slim and light with a curved crossguard, the ends of which narrowed to sharp points—and fit it perfectly into the sheath on the elf's hip. They couldn't confirm if the bow was hers, but, by the way it was crafted and gracefully shaped, they doubted anyone else would be the owner.

"So, now, we wait?"

"Now," Murtagh replied, taking out his own bow and fitting an arrow on the string, "we wait. Sara should be here shortly."

"Yeah," Blaster said. "If we do this right, we might get out of here without much more than that first encounter. No one I know sounded the alarm that we are here. Barring any interference, we should get out scot-free."

A cold chuckle filled the banquet room. "I'm afraid it's far too late for that."

The two men turned around, Blaster cursing to himself. A man was at the end of the room, alone. A bare sword with a thin scratch on the blade was in his hands. He unclasped the brooch that held his cape in place, allowing it to fall to the floor. He had a thin and compact body, and he had red hair and eyes. Blaster's eyes widened as he realized what he was looking at. It was a Shade, a deceptively agile and strong creature controlled by evil spirits.

"So, my young _Rider_, do you wish to test yourself against me?" the Shade sneered. "I should have known someone of your caliper was behind these explosions and I let you in unopposed. I will not forget that again."

"No, you won't," Blaster said. He removed Cratona, allowing the crystalline blade to shine in the firelight. He added, in a low breath, "I will stall for time. Since he'll probably want me alive, that'll give you time."

"You won't have to stall for long," Murtagh said.

Blaster stood up and advanced, his sword slightly to the side. The Shade's maroon eyes burned like coals, and he laughed softly. "Do you really think to defeat me, Watcher of the Crux Stones? A pitiful name. I would have expected something more subtle from you, but I suppose that's all your capable of."

"My true name is more complex than what Char might have told you," Blaster said. He crouched down into his ready stance. "You wouldn't be able to comprehend what I've seen, or what I've done. And, since you are here, you are to blame for her current condition. For that, you will pay." The two stared at each other. No one moved, waiting for an opening. Blaster held fast, trying to predict the opening move. _Magic is out, for he would probably use magic against me. He must assume I am not good at magic and could win without resorting to such measures. And I wouldn't put it past him._

Before either could move, the ceiling boomed and shook. Dust fell from the rafters, turning the air a slight grey while pieces of wood fell around them, shattering on the floor and tables. Afraid of getting nailed by falling timber, Blaster stole a glance upwards. The Shade took advantage and attacked.

Blaster barely blocked a slash at his ribs. Their blades met with a loud clang, and the impact jarred Blaster's teeth. _He's rather strong_, Blaster thought to himself. Gripping Cratona with both hands, he swung at the Shade's head. The Shade blocked the blade with ease, whipping his sword around at inhuman speeds. Blaster matched him swing for swing, but he was beginning to tire after a few minutes. Above them came the sounds of iron spikes being drawn across rock. A trio of long cracks appeared in the ceiling and slate shingles fell through. Blaster ignored them, even as one shattered on the floor no more than five feet from him. He had never been matched this closely when fighting with the blade. The Shade seemed to be playing with him.

Blaster's second wind came in a brief reprieve when the two had disengaged. He let his strength increase, and the air around him seemed to crack with energy. Refreshed, Blaster went back at the Shade, matching sword swings with much less effort than before. Confident, he tried to stab and accidentally over-extended. Before he could react, the Shade lazily flicked Cratona out of Blaster's hands. The force sent Blaster to his knees, but he was quick to get one foot back under him. The screeching was louder than ever, meaning Sara was trying to pry apart the roof.

The Shade stared down at him haughtily. "A powerful piece you may be in the game that is being played, but I'm disappointed that this is your best. If the other Riders were this weak, they must have controlled the Empire by sheer numbers."

"Two things. One, I never reveal my best until I've learned about my enemy. Besides, I got cocky. Two, you forget one thing."

"And what might that be?" the Shade asked mockingly.

"The dragons," Blaster said. A loud cracking was heard, and a large chunk of the ceiling was ripped away. Blaster threw himself out of the Shade's reach and fired one of his pistols twice. One shot connected with the Shade's shoulder.

The Shade laughed. "You'll have to do better than that if you want to stop me." A second later, one of Murtagh's arrows caught him right between the eyes. The Shade howled in agony and covered his face. His skin turned grey as a mist formed around him. A shattering cry and then the cloud vanished. What remained from where the Shade once stood was his cape and a pile of clothes.

"You killed him!" Blaster exclaimed. From what he knew, only two heroes survived slaying a Shade.

"I'm not so sure," Murtagh replied.

"That's it," a man shouted. "He failed. Go in and get them!"

Soldiers with spears and nets poured into the banquet hall from both ends. Murtagh and Blaster backed up against the wall, dragging the elf and Char with them. The men formed a menacing half-circle around them, but it wasn't for long as Blaster raised his pistol and emptied the clip into the crowd. At that moment, Sara stuck her head through the hole in the ceiling and roared. She grabbed another section of the roof and began to rip it apart.

Three soldiers ran, and half a dozen others collapsed to the floor, but the others held their ground. Their ranks were suddenly full of confusion as the center beam of the ceiling cracked, raining down the heavy shingles. The two tried their best to keep to the sides, avoiding the falling debris. After another roar, the remaining soldiers fled, some getting crushed in the process. Finally, after one last effort, the entire roof was ripped off. Sara jumped in and folded her wings, crushing a few tables with her weight.

_All clear up there_, Sara said.

_Good_, Blaster said. _Let's mount up and get out of here before the timers go off._

Blaster went to get his sword and then helped Murtagh get the girls into the saddle. _So this is the elf and your friend?_

_Yes_, Blaster confirmed. _That's the woman from Eragon's dreams. This_, he added, digging Char's bag from hiding, _is Char. My fiancé._ They then climbed onto Sara. _Any nearby watchmen?_

_There were,_ Sara replied smugly. _They aren't anymore. You ready?_

_ Let's blow this popsicle stand._

Sara leapt onto the roof of the fortress. Bodies of watchmen lay scattered about. "Look!" Murtagh said, pointing. A row of archers filed out of a tower on the other side of the roofless hall.

"Sara, take off," Blaster said. "As high a climb angle as you can manage. Emergency evasive. I will give you the boost when possible." He pulled his other pistol from its holster, spun around, and started firing at the archers, killing several in the process.

Sara unfurled her wings, ran toward the end of the building, and propelled the four over it with her powerful legs. For a moment, they dropped alarmingly. She struggled to gain altitude, and it was made worse as arrows were soon being fired at them. Luckilly, Blaster had used his powers over the air to help them take off. However, Sara roared in pain as he failed to get her out of range of the arrows. Once they were at altitude, Blaster turned around when he heard a massive boom. The little explosives he had planted earlier detonated, causing the entire fortress to begin to collapse in on itself. Finally, Blaster bent over Sara's neck.

_Damage report,_ Blaster demanded.

_My wings are pierced,_ Sara said. _I will be fine enough to get us well out of here._

As the injured dragon made her way into the night, Blaster took one last look at Gil'ead before they veered eastward and out of sight.

* * *

><p><strong>What's the next plan of action? Will the girls be alright? Is this the last time we see the Shade? Find out in the next chapter of <em>Free Riders.<em>**

**__**Please R&R.


	32. Ch31: On The Run Again

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 31: On The Run Again

Sara drifted to the clearing no more than about two miles from Gil'ead. Sara was shaking beneath Blaster and she rested her injured wings on the ground. Blaster got off and went to where the horses were picketed in the clearing. The horses snorted nervously, but did nothing else. Blaster pulled out his med-kit from his bag.

Almost as if he had a light, Blaster was looking over Sara's wing. Every little hole he found he healed with magic. It took a moment for him to get everything, and he even noticed that, had they not been flying the way they had, Sara would have taken more hits. Satisfied, he then checked on the elf and Char.

_Can you carry them for a little longer as we get out of here?_ Blaster asked. _We cannot take them on the horses and ride fast enough. Flying should be easier with your wings healed._

_That they will,_ Sara replied. _I shall carry them. After all, you still love her and would do anything to protect her. And, you should never let an elf die. I will protect them_

_And I believe her to be safer with you than with me at the moment_, Blaster admitted. _You were incredible back there. I shall never forget it. Now fly. We shall be behind._

_ Of course_, Sara said. Blaster stepped back as Sara took to the skies, though he sensed a slight note of jealousy from Sara. Seconds after she took off, she was gone. Blaster and Murtagh mounted their horses, then galloped away.

They rode through the night. As they rode, Blaster compiled a list of things he knew about elves. _They have extremely long lives, speak in the ancient language, many can use magic, and they disappeared after the fall of the Riders and hadn't been seen in the Empire since. What I want to know is why she's here now. How did the Empire capture her? There must be some reason to all this. Perhaps Char would know, but I want to hear it from her._

Blaster let his thoughts go as they rode. They didn't stop even as their flagging strength began to slow them down. Despite burning eyes and clumsy movements, they continued. Lines of torch-bearing horsemen searched for their trail around Gil'ead, now behind them by at least a league.

In the early morning hours, they finally slowed their horses. "We will have to make camp," Blaster said. "We must sleep—whether they catch us or not."

"Agreed," Murtagh said, rubbing his eyes. "Have Sara land. We'll meet her."

They followed Sara's directions and found her drinking from a stream at the base of a small cliff. Her riders were still slouched in the saddle. Sara greeted them with a soft bugle.

Murtagh and Blaster removed the elf from Sara's saddle and lowered her to the ground before doing the same with Sara. Then they sagged against the rock face, exhausted. Sara examined the elf curiously. _I wonder why she hasn't woken up. It's been hours since we left Gil'ead._

_I could say the same for Char,_ Blaster added. Murtagh looked at the elf.

"The only thing I know is that she's the first elf the king has captured, as mentioned before," he said. "Ever since they went into hiding, he's been looking for them without success—until now. So he's either found their sanctuary, or she was captured by chance. I think it was chance, because, if he had found the elf haven, he would have declared war and sent his army after the elves. Since that hasn't happened, the question is, Were Galbatorix's men able to extract the elves' location before we rescued her?"

"We won't know until she regains consciousness," Blaster said. "Also, was it just me, or did I see Urgals as well as soldiers around?"

"The Urgals might be working for the Empire," Murtagh said shortly, pushing back his hair. "And, it seems, the Shade as well. This could be an issue."

_Wait, so that means…_ Blaster said to Sara. He paused. _Eragon wasn't just insulting an Urgal leader. He insulted Galbatorix himself. _He_ is their master. And that attack at Yazuac._ He thought about the bodies that they never buried. _I cannot believe the nerve of someone to do that to their own subjects. I should just walk up to Urû'baen right now and demand answers._

"This will mean war!" Blaster exclaimed, glowering, as if he had been holding back his reaction. "Once the people of the Empire learn of it, they will rebel and support the Varden."

Murtagh rested his chin in his hand. "Even if they heard of this outrage, few would make it to the Varden. With the Urgals under his command, the king has enough warriors to close the Empire's borders and remain in control, no matter how disruptive people are. With such a rule of terror, he will be able to shape the Empire as he sees fit. And though he is hated, people could be galvanized into joining him if they had a common enemy."

"Who would that be?" Blaster asked angrily.

"The elves and the Varden," Murtagh continued. "With the right rumors they can be portrayed as the most despicable monsters in Alagaësia—fiends who are waiting to seize your land and wealth. The Empire could even say that the Urgals have been misunderstood all this time and that they are really friends and allies against such terrible enemies. I only wonder what the king promised them in return for their services."

"And I think I might know why he does that," Blaster said. "Sure, he's in power, but his authority is being challenged by the Varden. People must sympathize with them. There is also Surda. From what I heard from Brom, they have defied the Empire since they have seceded. It seems as if Galbatorix is strong within the Empire, but his arm is weak outside its borders. At least, based on what I've seen. But I would think that people would see through his deceptions."

"They'll believe whatever he wants them to," Murtagh added. "It's happened before."

They all fell silent. Blaster was troubled by his own words. Sara opened her mind to Blaster so that they could talk amongst themselves.

_Where is Galbatorix sending the Urgals?_ Sara asked.

_We've heard in both Carvahall and Teirm that the Urgals were leaving the area and migrating southeast,_ Blaster said. _Almost as if to brave the Hadarac Desert._

_But, if the King truly does control them, why is he sending them in that direction?_ Sara asked. _Perhaps a private Urgal army is being gathered or an Urgal city is being formed?_

_Perhaps they have found the Varden and are going in for the attack,_ Blaster suggested. He shuddered at the thought. _I just wish we knew where the Varden are. That's where we should be going. I should contact Brom first chance I get._ He then looked behind him. _And I wouldn't advise going anywhere near there for several years_.

"Thanks for the aid back there," Blaster said.

"I'm just glad I could help," Murtagh said. He rubbed his face. "My main worry now is how we're going to travel with so many men searching for us. Gil'ead's soldiers will be hunting us tomorrow; once they find the horses' tracks, they'll know you didn't fly away."

Blaster glumly agreed, but was soon fixated on the elf again. Reluctantly, he dragged himself upright and said, "We should make a bed for her."

Blaster thought about the same for Char, but, in the little time he had rested, his energy reserves had replenished, and he was already filling his body with more energy. He needed to help Char, but the elf was a priority, so he removed her first. Carrying her bridal style, he set her down and started to take off her leather jacket. He did his best to protect and preserve her modesty, going only so far as to lie her on her back when everything else was removed.

Her back looked like she had been attacked by a weed-whacker. Using his telekinesis, he summoned both his medical bag and the medical bag that was in Char's bag. Her back was nasty, with injuries from scars of whip lashes and brands in the shape of claws. Purple bruises were visible where there were no scabs. By the looks of it, she was tortured to within an inch of her life.

Looking closely at the left shoulder of the elf, Blaster saw a symbol in indigo ink. It was the same symbol that adorned Brom's ring. Blaster looked down and opened up both of the medical kits he had. He would need a lot of supplies form both to heal some of the minor wounds.

"Can you heal this?" Murtagh asked.

"I can always try," Blaster said, looking up from his patient. "She is an elf. She cannot be allowed to die under any circumstances. I will save her. I'm gonna need some bandages and some food."

"We cannot light a fire," Murtagh protested. "That would give away our position. It'll be unwashed cloths, and the food will be cold."

Blaster agreed. Moments later, he was diving into his magic and beginning the process of healing. He skimmed over the minor wounds and went straight for the serious ones, but he did heal one minor wound here and there. It was amazing how much of a beating she had endured to be still alive.

Every so often, Blaster would take a small swig from his canteen before continuing, Sara right beside him for help. He was done before the sun rose.

"Are you done?" Murtagh asked.

Blaster merely bowed his head as if to say yes.

"Will she live?"

"Not sure," Blaster said. "I don't know how much she could take without consequences. But I have to take care of Char now, so, keep an eye on her."

Murtagh nodded, as Blaster went over to where he had placed Char. She looked just as bad and just as out of it as the elf. He had to down one of his blue vials to keep his magic stores up as he healed what wounds he could. Again, Sara was over his shoulder for the entire time for support. Finished at around mid-day, he finally rested, satisfied she would be stable for transport.

"We should start riding again," Blaster said

"No, you must sleep," Murtagh protested. "Especially after the magic you've used."

"I can rest in the saddle if necessary," Blaster said. He was already busy with re-dressing Char and packing up his bags. "Besides, we cannot afford to stay here. Not with the soldiers closing in on us."

Murtagh reluctantly gave in. They resaddled the horses, strapped the elf and Char to Sara's saddle, then he went into his meditative resting state.

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

"But that must mean Blaster is alive," Eragon protested. He had scryed just before going to bed the previous night and found Sara flying with both Char and the elf on her back.

_You should have started resting by that time, little one,_ Saphira said. She and Brom were slowly getting annoyed with Eragon. At least until he allowed Brom to enter his mind and see what he'd seen. They were astonished by this development that had been brought to them.

"Yes, but you didn't see him on Sara as well, did you?" Brom asked. "I doubt that, even at her size, Sara could fly three people out of Gil'ead without needing to rest. He could have followed by horseback but, I don't know."

"Well, we are close to the lake in which the Beartooth River flows," Eragon said. When the Beor Mountains came into view, their monstrous size was revealed. The Spine looked like foothills compared to these monstrosities. "You can scry him if you wish to confirm what I have said."

"Better yet, I can do that now." Brom removed a bowl and muttered. "Adurna, reisa un gath unin du dörnel." The bowl slowly filled with water that poured up from the earth. Once it was full enough, he muttered, "Letta," to stop the flow of magic. "Dramur kópa." With a thought, an image of Blaster could be seen. He was riding on a horse, but he looked fast asleep in the saddle. Brom's eyes flicked over to a grey warhorse just outside his view and instead focused on that, then the rider. He was so shocked that he nearly dropped the bowl off of Snowfire.

"What is it?" Eragon asked.

"He travels with Murtagh," Brom said. "The one and only secret child of Morzan, first and last of the Forsworn."

"_WHAT?_" Brom was astonished to hear both Eragon and Saphira yelling into his ear.

"He travels with the son of Morzan," Brom said. "I only knew of him through his mother. After Morzan was killed, he was more or less adopted by Galbatorix."

"What about the elf and Char?" Eragon asked. Brom shifted his thoughts to Sara and the two on her. While the one was a little fuzzy, having only seen her in a photo, the elf he could see clear as day. For the second time, he nearly dropped the bowl of water. "What now?"

"The elf you have seen I know," Brom said. "She is Arya, the carrier of the eggs. When the Varden got a hold of the eggs, she shepherded them between the Varden and the Elves in hopes they would hatch. After that, I would be called in to train them for a year before they would be sent to the elves."

"So, I will have to go back to the elves with her?"

"Yes, but she too appears to be asleep," Brom said. "If I didn't know better, she looks downright terrible." He thought for a moment. "Huildr du adurna unin du dörnel." The water in the bowl instantly solidified into ice. "I should be able to keep that spell up until Blaster scrys us. That way, we can continue onwards and not worry about waiting for Blaster to catch up. But, if he brings Murtagh along with him, that could be an issue."

"Why?" Eragon asked. "Are his father's sins transferable to himself?"

"No, but he has been in the court of Galbatorix," Brom said. "Who knows how much he's told Murtagh. He could be a spy or an assassin. Unless he's a defector and hasn't made a binding oath, I don't like him with those guys, even if he is being truthful."

Eragon was about to ask why when it hit him. Blaster probably tried to, and failed, to sense Murtagh's motives, which didn't seem possible unless Murtagh had expert training in mind defense. Finally, he said, "So, what do we do?"

"We continue," Brom said. "You've promised not to harm nor deceive the Varden, and I am now showing you where they hide. You have come such a long way and, as a warning, you will be pulled by politics to further one's gains. For this, I have no advice. You must do what feels right and, if possible, make your own path. Just, don't get involved in politics if you can avoid it."

Eragon nodded as they continued into the deep valley of the Beor Mountains.

* * *

><p><strong>Is Murtagh being truthful? Will the girls survive a trip to the Varden? What is the next course of action? Find out next time on <em>Free Riders.<em>**

**__**So you know, dornel (with the two dots over the "o") is not a word in the ancient language, but i couldn't find a word for bowl on the Inheritance wiki, so I made one up. It is pronounced DOO-er-nehl, if you want to know.

Please R& R. This chapter is a reference to the song "On the Road Again."


	33. Ch32: Water, Most Abundant Resource

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 32: Water, Most Abundant Resource

When they finally stopped for the evening, neither felt better. Most of the day was spent taking detours to avoid patrols with hunting dogs. Blaster went to Sara to remove her load. _How'd they do?_

_Well,_ Sara said. _They stirred a few times, but otherwise remained still._ Blaster and Murtagh slowly removed the two girls on the ground. They then began to cook up dinner.

"We can't keep up this pace," Murtagh finally said after the meal was finished. "We aren't gaining any ground on the soldiers. Another day or two of this and they'll be sure to overtake us."

"What else can we do?" Blaster snapped. "If it were just the two of us and you were willing to leave Tornac behind, Sara could fly us out of here. But, with both Char and the elf, too? Impossible."

Murtagh looked at Blaster carefully. "If you want to go your own way, I won't stop you. I can't expect you guys to stay and risk imprisonment."

"And leave you to the wolves?" Blaster questioned. "Yeah, right. That would be poor thanks for helping get us all out of Gil'ead alive."

"Still doesn't solve our problem," Murtagh said.

"What can?" Blaster asked. He gestured to the elf. "I wish she could tell us where the elves are. Perhaps we could seek sanctuary with them. But, I don't think I would like taking a trip back by Gil'ead."

"Considering how they've protected themselves, you'd be hard pressed to get their location from her," Murtagh said. "Even if she did, the others might not welcome us. Besides, the last Riders they had contact with were Galbatorix and the Forsworn, and I'm sure they made a lasting impression. Plus, I haven't got the honor of being a Rider like you. They wouldn't want _me_ at all."

"That may be true," Blaster said, "but we can't even _find_ them. We can't exactly ask the elf until she returns to the land of the living, so I suggest we flee."

Murtagh laced his fingers together and pressed his thumbs against his temples. "The only thing we can do is leave the Empire, for there are few places that are safe, yet they are far from here. Plus, they would be difficult to get to without being followed or captured. To the north is Du Weldenvarden, which we might be able to hide in, but I'm not really interested in going back by Gil'ead any more than you are. To the west lie the Empire and the sea. South is Surda, where you might find someone to guide you to the Varden if your contact doesn't work. And the Hadarac Desert lies between us and whatever lands are to the east. Somewhere along there hides the Varden."

Blaster soon got a headache. "It's too dangerous to go to Surda. We would have to traverse most of the Empire and avoid every town and village along the way."

"So, you are suggesting we cross the desert?" Murtagh asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I see no other option," Blaster argued. He pulled up his map. "Besides, we must leave before the Ra'zac get here. They will most likely be in Gil'ead within a few days with those flying steeds of theirs."

"Even if we do reach the desert before they get here, they could still overtake us," Murtagh replied. "It'll be hard to outdistance them at all."

"That's assuming they can follow our trail," Blaster replied, leaning back against Sara as he checked the map. "To catch us, though, they'll have to leave the soldiers behind, which is to our advantage. If we ever encounter them in a fight, I think the three of us could defeat them. Providing they don't ambush us like before.

"And that leaves one problem," Blaster said. "The desert. Hot, dry, and full of sand. Not only that, but according to the map, it is many times larger than the plains we crossed on our way to Gil'ead." He showed Murtagh his map.

Murtagh swept his hand over the right side of the map. "This blank part was once under one rule when the Riders lived. If the king gathered new Riders under his command, he would be able to expand the Empire to an unprecedented size. But that's not the point. The desert is so massive and full of many dangers, meaning that the chances are slim that we can cross it unscathed. It is a desperate path."

"We are desperate," Blaster said. He looked at his map once again. "Okay, I've had an idea. If we cross the desert through the belly, it would take us at least a month. Possibly two months. But, what if we angle towards the Beor Mountains? That way, we would only be crossing a fraction of the desert. From there, we could follow the Beors into the wilderness, or head west into Surda. If this map is accurate, the distance between here and the Beors is about what we covered between Dras-Leona and Gil'ead."

"That took us almost two weeks," Murtagh argued.

"On account of my injuries and that we were taking it slower than normal," Blaster said. "If we press ourselves, it shouldn't take nearly as long."

"Okay," Murtagh said. "One final question. We have enough supplies to last us, since I bought some in Gil'ead. But what about water? The roving tribes who live in the Hadarac usually disguise their wells and oases so no one can steal their water. Carrying enough for more than a day would be impractical, and the horses and dragons drink more water in one sitting than we do in a week. So, unless you can summon a rain storm, I don't see how we're going to do it."

Blaster dug a small trench. Within moments, he had found a damp layer of earth a few inches below the surface. "Exhibit A, my friend," Blaster said. "Something I learned a long time ago in a place very far away. Water, right in the earth."

_How does that help?_ Sara asked. _Water in the desert is sure to be buried so deeply, we would have to dig for weeks to find it._ Blaster voiced her question before responding.

"True, but, with magic, we could merely lift the water like a well. Watch." He summoned his magic. "Adurna reisa." The little trench slowly filled with clear water. He tested it with a sip before releasing the magic and allowing the water to return to the earth. "And there you go. Just like a well."

_ There might not be enough water in the ground for you to bring up to the surface in the desert,_ Sara said.

"But I'm merely lifting the water to the surface," Blaster said. "It'll be an easy task for me, so long as I lift the water slowly. It will work, I am sure of it."

"Okay, but we should get some sleep if we are to get a head start on the soldiers tomorrow."

"Agreed," Blaster said. "I just want to check one thing." Using the same spell, he lifted water and filled a small bowl, then muttered, "Dramur kópa." Instantly an image of Brom came to his bowl and he saw that he was battling Eragon. After a few seconds, he looked directly at Blaster and started to approach. The next thing startled Blaster.

"Where are you?" Brom asked. This got Murtagh's attention. "After we got separated over near Dras-Leona, I don't know what happened."

"I'll explain later," Blaster said. "Right now, we've just broken into and out of Gil'ead and we need your location."

"I know that voice," Murtagh said. He leaned in closer and got a good look. "Brom!"

"Hello, Murtagh," Brom said. "I haven't seen you since you were what? Four? Five years old? How's that scar on your back?"

"What scar?" Blaster asked.

"I suppose I should tell you," Murtagh said. "You've been traveling with me for almost a month, so you should know the truth. I am the son of Morzan, First and Last of the Forsworn."

Sara roared in anger and pinned him to the ground.

"Sara, back off," Blaster said. "Just because his father helped betray the Riders doesn't mean that he'll turn out to be the same."

"But still," Brom said.

"What's going on?" Eragon moved into the picture and Murtagh got a good look at the sword.

"So it _was_ you," Murtagh said to Brom. "You stole my father's sword. The same sword that tore open my back when I was three."

"Yes, but I had my reasons," Brom said. "However, you put me in a bit of a pickle. You see, you are traveling with a Rider and the elf that carried the eggs after they were stolen. What is your purpose?"

"I am trying to save their lives, even if it means escorting them to the Varden and then off into a place to hide from the Empire." Sara got off of Murtagh. "I possess no magic, yet I know of the ancient language. I have been visited and spoken to by the King himself. I have no love for my father, nor the Empire, but, even if you drag me to the Varden, I will not join."

"Acceptable," Brom said. "But I must tell Blaster how to get there, and I must have your word that you will not harm them." Mutagh nodded and, in the ancient language, promised not to harm the Varden. Blaster did likewise. Brom showed them their path through a series of vertigo inducing images. They started by the Beors, which looked monstrous to them, and into a small valley with a river. "It is a long journey, but I will hope that you will know the way. Follow the Beartooth River to the waterfalls at Kóstha-mérna. At the base, take a rock and knock it on the wall and shout 'Aí varden abr du Shur'tugalar gata vanta.' You will be challenged, but they will admit you."

"Okay," Blaster said. "One last thing, though. What is the name of the elf?"

"Her name is Arya," Brom said. "You will do well to be polite around her."

"Of course," Blaster said. "Polite is my middle name. Or, it would be if I had a middle name." Murtagh yawned. "I should let you go. We are in the middle of running and it would be best if we get some rest before we get captured by the Empire and his Shade."

Brom looked shocked. "Yes. Get out of the Empire right now. I will expect details when you are here."

"Will do," Blaster said. "Blaster out." Brom nodded then disappeared as Blaster canceled the flow of magic. "I will want to know your story once we have the opportunity. It's just a shame that Brom told me your secret instead of you."

"Nothing I'm proud of anyway," Murtagh said. "I trust you won't slit my throat while I sleep."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Blaster said. "You probably saved my life back in Gil'ead. I help save yours, we're even. Now let's get some sleep. We're going to need it."

It was early predawn when they forced themselves awake. It was cold, as the sun was still a few hours from rising. Blaster thought of a problem about Arya. "She cannot ride on Sara's back much longer without getting sores from her scales," he said. "And the claws are out as it would be too dangerous for her to land and she'll get tired."

"I would offer using a sled," Murtagh said, "but we have your Char who is in the same boat. I do not want to have the horses laden with extra weight."

"Hang on," Blaster said. "Char wears clothes similar to mine. My clothes have been magically enhanced to resist wear and afford better protection when riding. Char's is exactly the same. Therefore, she can stay in the saddle. However, the issue is with Arya."

_I have an idea_, Sara suddenly said. _What if you tie Arya to my belly. She'll be safer than anywhere else, unless we are attacked by archers, but I could easily fly over their arrows. Plus, I'll still be able to move freely._

None of them could think up a better idea, so they quickly adopted hers. Blaster managed to find two one-hundred-foot coils of climbing rope in Char's bag, as she was an avid climber like himself. Blaster shook his head, but was glad that she was well prepared. He set to work, cutting the rope in half. Making sure that the ropes would be long enough to encircle Sara's girth, Blaster tied Arya, blanket and all, back-first against Sara's belly. After a few moments of checking over the knots and testing the tension, Blaster stepped back.

"Your scales might rub through the rope," Blaster said to Sara. "We'll check them periodically for fraying. So, with everything packed up and secure, shall we depart?"

Murtagh's eyes sparked dangerously and a smile came to his lips. He glanced back the way they had come, where the smoke from the soldier's camps were clearly visible. "I always did like races."

"And now we're in one for our lives," Blaster deadpanned.

Murtagh swung into the saddle and trotted out of the camp. Blaster followed on his horse that he had named Phillip, after his late grandfather. Sara jumped into the air and flew low to the ground. In this fashion, the three of them made their way southeast, toward the Hadarac Desert.

Blaster often checked behind them for their pursuers as they rode. His concerns were more for both Char and Arya. It was mostly concern for their health, and would they survive their trip through the desert.

For the rest of the day, the three of them sped through the land, ignoring any discomfort and fatigue. They drove the horses as hard as they could without killing them. Sometimes they dismounted and ran on foot to give the horses a rest, and only stopped twice to allow the horses food and drink.

The contingency from Gil'ead were far behind them now, but they had to avoid new soldiers every time they passed through a town or village. Somehow, the alarm had been sent ahead of them like a telegraph. They were nearly ambushed twice by patrols along the trail. They escaped both times thanks to Sara's keen senses of smell. With unspoken consent, they avoided the trail after the second near miss.

As the skies darkened into the evening, and then into night, they relentlessly paced out miles. As they traveled, the ground rose to form low cactus-dotted hills.

"There's a town ahead, Bullridge," Murtagh said. "They're sure to have soldiers watching for us, so it would be wise to slip by them now while it's dark."

After three hours, they saw the straw-yellow lanterns of Bullridge. Soldiers were spread out and patrolled between watch fires scattered around town. The trio muffled their sword sheathes and carefully dismounted. They led the horses in a wide detour around Bullridge, listening attentively so as to avoid any encampment. Soon enough, the town was behind them.

Daybreak finally flooded the sky and warmed the air several hours later. They all halted on the crest of a hill to observe their surroundings. The Ramr River was both to their left, and some five miles to their right. Ahead of them was where the river doubled back on itself in a narrow loop before curving towards the west. They had achieved sixteen plus leagues in one day. Everyone was exhausted.

"Let's find a gully or hollow where we can sleep undisturbed," Blaster said. They found a small stand of juniper trees nearby and laid their blankets beneath them. Sara waited patiently as they untied Arya her belly and removed Char from the saddle.

"I'll take first watch," Blaster said. "I'll wake Murtagh around mid-morning. We'll rotate from there." He set his bare sword across his knees, and pulled out his pistol. Murtagh fell asleep quickly.

* * *

><p><strong>Will they make it out in time? Can Murtagh be trusted? How much longer before Arya and Char wake up? Find out next in this special 4-part installment of <em>Free Riders.<em>**

****I know, I haven't updated in what seems like forever, but I have been busy with starting work. Hence why I am updating four times today, periodically throughout the day. Please R&R.


	34. Ch33: Crossing the River Ramr

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 33: Crossing the River Ramr

When night fell, the entire group was worn and drowsy, but determined to continue their pace. As they packed, Blaster checked Char's vitals again, finding nothing wrong. He had known one special trick with Torillians was to put themselves into a kind of meditation in order to protect themselves from harm. That type of meditation could be held for days to weeks without food or water. After resigning to check on her later, he left her to her meditation.

Arya, on the other hand, had Blaster worried. And he was not alone.

"Sara and I are disturbed," Blaster said. "I've healed her wounds as best I could, and yet she shows no signs of getting better. What's more, she hasn't eaten."

"Maybe the Shade tampered with her mind," Murtagh suggested.

"Then we must help her," Blaster insisted.

Murtagh knelt by Arya, examined her intently, then shook his head and stood. "As far as I can tell, she's only sleeping. I could probably wake her by touch or just talking, yet she still slumbers. Her coma might be something the elves self-induce to escape the pain of injury, but why doesn't she end it? She's no longer in that type of danger."

"Yes, but does _she_ know that?" Blaster said. "She might still believe she's being held captive. The same goes for Char. She can induce a meditative state so deep, it's almost as if she's sleeping. She could go for a few weeks like that, but I want to know why she keeps it up."

"Well, this'll have to wait," Murtagh said. "We will lose our hard-won lead if we linger here much longer. We can tend to them next time we stop."

"One thing first," Blaster said. He soaked a rag, then squeezed the cloth so water landed on Arya's lips. He did this several times, but wasn't able to get her to wake. Dejected, he continued.

Once Arya and Char were firmly attached to Sara, they departed. They went through the hills, avoiding the tops to prevent being spotted by sentries. Sara stayed with them on the ground for the same reason. Despite her bulk, she was as stealthy as a cat. The only sound of her tail scraping over the ground could be heard. They traveled like this all night.

Eventually, the eastern sky brightened, and the morning star Aiedail appeared as they reached the edge of a steep bank. Water roared below beyond the mounds of brush. They had reached the Ramr River.

"We should find a place to ford safely!" Murtagh said over the din of the rushing water.

_That wouldn't be necessary,_ Sara said. _I could carry you across, no matter how wide the river is._

Blaster looked at Sara's silvery form. _I don't think it wise to leave the horses behind. Plus they're too heavy for you to lift._

_ So long as you aren't on them and they don't struggle too much, I'm sure I could carry them,_ Sara said. _If I could dodge arrows with four people on my back, albeit with a little help, then I'm sure I could fly a horse in a straight line over a river._

_ Okay, I'm convinced,_ Blaster said. _However, I want to make sure that we don't attempt it unless there is no other option._

_ We can't afford to waste time here_, Sara protested, clambering down the bank. Blaster and Phillip followed, with Murtagh and Tornac at the rear. The bank came to an abrupt end right at the river. White mist wafted up from the water, as if it were from a boiling pot. It was impossible to see the other side. Murtagh tossed in a branch and watched it race away in the torrent, bobbing on the rough water.

"How deep do you think it is?" Blaster asked.

"I would imagine pretty deep," Murtagh said. Can you see how far across it is with magic?"

"Not without lighting this place up like a lighthouse," Blaster said.

With a gust of wind, Sara took off and soared over the Ramr. After a short time, Sara spoke to Blaster. _I'm on the other side. The river is over half a mile wide. The Ramr bends here and is at its widest, so you picked the worst place to cross._

"A half-mile!" Blaster exclaimed. He told Murtagh about Sara's offer to ferry them across.

"I'd rather not try it, for the horses' sake," Murtagh replied. "Tornac isn't as accustomed to Sara as I would like, nor is Phillip. They might panic and injure her as well as themselves. Ask Sara to look for shallows where we can swim across safely." He paused. "I say if we don't find any within a mile in either direction, then I suppose she could ferry us."

Once Sara was asked, they set to searching. They hunkered down next to the horses and ate some dry bread while the two explored. It wasn't long before she returned, her wings whispering in the early-dawn sky.

_The water is both deep and strong upstream as well as downstream_, Sara said.

"I'd better go first," Murtagh said, once he was told. "I can watch the horses that way." He climbed into the saddle behind Char. "Be careful with Tornac. I've had him for a long time and I don't want anything to happen to him."

"I could use my magic as well," Blaster said, trying to figure out what to do to cross. "I will need to be careful though. I will be right behind you."

Murtagh nodded. Sara took to the skies and struggled to gain altitude, but she didn't fall into the swift river. Blaster, using up as much concentration as he could, summoned forth his magic and, using his power to hold things still, lifted Phillip, Tornac, and himself off the ground, ferrying the three of them over to the other side. He could see that the horses were frightened, but they didn't whinny in protest since they were being kept completely still. They soon all landed on the opposite bank. After the horses were released and calmed, they resumed their flight toward the Beor Mountains with the Ramr at their backs.

It took all of Blaster's concentration to keep them on course. Only once did Blaster nod off, which was unusual for him. During that time, Sara's vigilance kept them from straying off course. Before long, the ground gave way under their feet, forcing them to stop with the sun high overhead. Behind them, the Ramr was no more than a fuzzy line. Ahead was a vast expanse of dunes that spread to the horizon like small waves on the ocean.

They had finally reached the Hadarac Desert.

The wind kicked up some of the red-gold sand, and trees grew on scattered patches of solid ground. The softer ground was unfit for vegetation. A line of purple crags rose in the distance. Other than birds gliding around, there appeared to be no animals in this barren land.

"You're sure we'll find food for the horses out here?" Blaster asked, slurring his words slightly. The hot, dry air stung his throat.

"Yes," Murtagh replied, pointing to the crags. "Grass grows around them. Though it's short and tough, the horses will find it sufficient."

"I hope you're right," Blaster said, squinting at the sun. "Before we continue, we should rest. It should clear our minds and regain our strength"

They untied Arya and Char, ate, then lay in the shadow of a dune for a nap. As Blaster settled in the sand, Sara coiled up next to him, spreading her wings over the entire group.

_You know, this is a beautiful place,_ Sara said to Blaster. _I could spend years here and not notice the passing of time._

_I agree_, Blaster said before he closed his eyes. _Not only that, but it would be a nice place to fly._

_Not only that, but I feel as though we were made for the desert,_ Sara said. _And not just me, but Saphira as well. We'd have the space we need, mountains where we could roost, and camouflaged prey we could spend days hunting. And the warmth! I mean, don't get me wrong, cold doesn't disturb me, but this heat makes me feel so alive. So full of energy as well._

_ Remind me to bring you to see the Sahara desert,_ Blaster said. _It is similar to this._

As he spoke, he started to drift off to sleep. Before he did, he did one last calculation in his head. Four days since they had left Gil'ead, and they were just about thirty-five leagues away. _A hundred and five miles_, Blaster thought as he drifted off to sleep. _That's just over twenty-six miles per day. We're making good time._

They were rested enough within a couple of hours. Though no soldiers were in sight, they kept their pace, since they knew that the Empire would keep searching for them until they were too far away, far beyond the king's reach.

"Couriers must have carried news of our little break-in to Galbatorix by now," Blaster said. "He would most likely have notified the Ra'zac. They should be on our trail by now. It'll take them a while to catch us, even by flying, but we should be alert. They could catch us at any time."

_They will find I'm not so easy to hide from them this time,_ Sara said.

"I just hope they won't be able to follow us past Bullridge," Murtagh said, scratching his chin. "The Ramr is an effective way to throw-off pursuers, and there is a good chance that our tracks won't be found again."

"That's something to hope for," Blaster said. He checked on Arya, but her condition hadn't changed despite his ministrations. "As of right now, though, I have no faith in luck. The Ra'zac could be on our trail even as we speak."

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

It was sunset when they reached the crags. The imposing stone bluffs towered over them, casting thin shadows. No dunes were within half a mile of either direction. The heat assaulted them like a physical blow. They had sunburned faces and necks. After picketing the horses where they could nibble on the sparse grass, Murtagh started a small fire.

"How far do you think we went?" Blaster asked as he released Arya from Sara. "I ask because I have no idea." He removed Char from the saddle. "I think we traveled at least five leagues. Maybe even ten, but it's tough to tell when you have no landmarks to go by."

Murtagh shrugged, then cursed as he picked up a pot. "We don't have enough water. And the horses have to drink."

"Bring the horses," Blaster said. "Time to see how far down the water is here."

Sara dug a hole for Blaster with her claws. He then summoned his magic and released the spell. Though the ground was parched, there was enough moisture in the dirt for the plants to live on, and more than enough to fill the hole several times over. Murtagh refilled the waterskins, then stood aside to let the horses drink.

The horses quaffed gallons. He ended up drawing moisture from deeper in the earth to satisfy their desire. Finally, once the horses were sated, Blaster ordered Sara to drink. Sara took two long draughts, then let Blaster lean over to take one long gulp before letting the water sink back into the ground. It was harder to hold the water at the surface than he had expected, but well within his abilities.

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

It was freezing when they woke the next day. The sand had a pink hue, and the sky was hazy and obscured the horizon. Murtagh was becoming rather irate, though Blaster's own temper was slowly deteriorating. However, he tried to remain as calm as possible. During breakfast, he asked, "Do you think it'll be long before we leave the desert?"

Murtagh glowered, but said, "Since we're only crossing a small segment, I don't think we'll be here more than two or three days."

"But look at how far we've come already," Blaster pointed out.

"Then maybe it won't," Murtagh said. "All I care about is getting out of the Hadarac as swiftly as possible. It's hard enough trying to get out of here without having to pick sand out of our eyes every few minutes."

Once they finished eating, Blaster went to Char and Arya. The two looked like corpses, if not for their measured breathing. Blaster resisted the urge to talk to Char the way he wanted to, and merely tied her to Sara's saddle and Arya to her belly as they prepared to leave.

A line of dark smudges became visible on the horizon as they left camp, but they were indistinct in the hazy air. Murtagh said they were distant hills, but Blaster wasn't convinced. He didn't question it, though, for he couldn't see any details that proved otherwise. By the time they stopped for lunch around mid-day, the haze had thinned. They continued to ride soon after. Blaster took notice of the smudges on the horizon. They were more defined now.

The purple lumps had transformed into well defined forest-covered mounds. The air above them was a white that was much brighter than the usual hue. From a certain horizontal line up, all color was leeched from the mounds. After a few blinks, Blaster realized what he was looking at.

Ahead of them, giant, even from this distance, were the Beor Mountains. Blaster was shocked at the size. The bases of the mountains must have been tens of miles wide. Their tops were ice-covered, and their peaks were completely obscured, fading from sight this far out. Narrow valleys split the mountains, making them look like a giant, toothy wall linking Alagaësia to the heavens. Sara looked at them and immediately felt like a hatchling again.

_We could be close,_ Blaster said to Sara. _However, we could still be tens of miles away. It is impossible to gauge distance with something so big. I wouldn't put it past them to be able to hide whole nations with their behemoth size._

_Yes,_ Sara acknowledged. _They would be the perfect hiding spot for the Varden. A group I hope still hides there.  
><em>

* * *

><p><strong>Will they reach the Varden in time? Are the Varden hiding elsewhere? What will Murtagh do once they are by the mountains? Find out in the next installment of <em>Free Riders.<em>**

Yes, he used his inherent powers to lift the three of them, not the magic of this universe. There is some other magic he can use, but that won't show up until later.


	35. Ch34: Kung Pow Part II: Enter the Mind

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 34: Kung Pow Part II: Enter the Mind

Blaster pointed to the mountains, grinning. "Look closely," He said to Murtagh.

"What?" Murtagh replied, irritated. "I don't see—" The words died in his mouth as he took in what he saw. If his jaw wasn't attached to his face, it would have been sitting on the back of Tornac. He squinted to get a better look. "Damn! I knew the Beors were large, but not that monstrous size."

"No kidding," Blaster said. "I just hope that the animals who live there aren't in proportion to the mountains."

"It'll be good to get some shade and slow down," Murtagh said. "I think we've all had more than enough of this forced march."

"I don't want to stop until Arya is cured," Blaster said. "I don't want her to die. I don't know, however, how it will help her if we keep traveling. We'd have better luck trying to give both her and Char a rest in a real bed."

"Well, when we reach the mountains, we could take them to Surda, as it isn't that far," Murtagh suggested. "There must be a healer there who can help them, for we certainly can't."

"Let's get to the mountains first," Blaster said. "That is our first priority: getting out of reach of the Empire."

Though the landscape changed dramatically, the mountains didn't seem to be getting any closer. As they neared the foothills of the mountains, the sand gave way to dirt, dunes were replaced with furrows of past floodings, and a cool breeze blew around them, as opposed to the sweltering wind from the desert. The horses were eager for the change in climate and pressed onwards.

A league from the foothills, they rested. Gazells bounded through the lush fields, and Sara had her eyes on them. They camped by a stream, congratulating each other with smiles. Sara crowed jubilantly, startling the horses in the process. They had traveled about sixty leagues in five days. With Blaster doing the math, he was astonished that, even with their trek through the desert, they still managed to maintain an average of thirty-six miles a day.

What was better was that they were now outside the Empire. But, even as the skies darkened, and the stars winked into existence, Blaster felt an urge to return. There had been many wrongs committed by Galbatorix, including murder and slavery. With Eragon's help, they had to assist those who were unable to resist the oppression of this monarch dictator.

Blaster looked at Arya stretched out by Sara. The orange light from the fire lit up her face. Finally, he knelt by the elf and placed his palm on her brow and, without telling anyone, sent a probe into Arya's mind. He found it clear as a bell as opposed to muddled as he had anticipated. Seconds later, he recoiled in pain as Arya struck back. Though Arya got through his first line of defense, Blaster drove a tendril of thought into Arya's mind.

He felt another attack, but continued to drive forward until he found his way to the communication part of the alien brain. Finally, after much thought and a lot of pressure, Blaster spoke to Arya.

_Peace, Arya_, he said in the ancient language. _I am a Rider and a friend. I mean you no harm._

Arya's attacks stopped, and surprise eminated from her. Suspicion followed next, but that soon gave way to her finally lowering her barriers. Blaster touched the entire conciousness of Arya, finding it more alien than he had anticipated. It was vast and powerful, full of memories from countless years. A melody seemed to play, both wild and hauntingly beautiful at the same time as a kind of embodiment of her identity.

_What is your name?_ she finally asked. She too spoke in the ancient language, though Blaster could tell in her voice that she was weary and filled with despair.

_I'm General Blastbone Clarkson_, Blaster replied. He resisted the song's call to dive deeper very well, especially with Char nearby.

_No need to tell you my name,_ she finally said. _Why have you contacted me in this manner? Am I still prisoner of the Empire? And how do you know my name?_

_ No, you are free!_ Blaster replied. He only knew a limited amount of words in the ancient language compared to Arya, but he managed to say: _I was able to find you imprisoned in Gil'ead, so, with the help of some friends, we broke in and rescued you and my friend Char. It's been five days since then, we've crossed the edge of the Hadarac Desert and we are now camped by the Beor Mountains. You haven't stirred nor spoken in all that time._

_Ah…so it was Gil'ead_, Arya said. She paused, then said,_ I know my wounds were healed. At the time, I didn't understand why. I was certain that it was preparation for some new torture. But now I realize it was you._

_ Of course,_ Blaster said.

_ And yet, I haven't risen and you are puzzled._ She was starting to speak softly.

_Yes_, Blaster replied.

_During my captivity, a rare poison, the Skilna Bragh, was given to me and Char, in addition to the drug to suppress our power. Every morning, we would be given the antidote from the previous day's poison, sometimes by force if we refused to take it. Without it, we will die in a few hours, maybe shorter for Char. That is why I lie in this trance, and why Char has begun to meditate—we can slow the process of the poison, but it doesn't stop it completely. I was contemplating waking in order to end my life and denying Galbatorix, but I refrained for hope you might be an ally._ Her voice was getting weaker.

_How long can you remain like this?_ Blaster asked.

_Weeks, but I'm afraid I haven't that much time,_ Arya replied, weakly. _This dormancy cannot stall death forever. I can feel the poison in my veins now. Unless I receive the antidote, I will succumb to the poison in three to four days. Char, I believe, will last just as long._

_ Where might we find this antidote?_ Blaster asked. He was rather nervous.

_Outside of the Empire? Two places: with my own people and the Varden. My home, however, is beyond the reach of dragonback._

_ Then, we must go to the Varden,_ Blaster replied. _I will not bother with asking for directions for Brom, the Rider who told me your name, gave directions to the Varden._

_I see. However, you must swear to me that you have not deceived me in some manner and that you intend no harm to the elves, dwarves, Varden, or the race of dragons._

_ Upon my word as a Rider, I swear and affirm that I have not deceived you in any way,_ Blaster said. _I do not intend to harm any of the aforementioned races, nor harm or give away the Varden's location to our enemies, whether it is willingly, or forced. This promise was repeated to Brom before I was given the directions._

_It is still pretty far,_ Arya said. _Don't let it dissuade you._

_What should we tell them to give you for the poison?_ Blaster asked.

Her voice quavered, but she was able to regain some strength. _Tell them—to give me Tunivor's Nectar. You must leave me now, for I have expended too much energy already. Do not talk to me again unless there is no hope of reaching the Varden. If that is the case, there is information I must impart to you so the Varden will survive. Farewell, Blaster, rider of dragons. My life, and that of Char's, is in your hands._

Arya withdrew her contact from Blaster. He shook his head and opened his eyes, finding Murtagh and Sara staring at them, concerned, on either side of them.

"You all right?" Murtagh asked. "You've been kneeling here for the better part of fifteen minutes."

"Really?" Blaster asked, blinking.

_Yes,_ Sara replied. _You had a pained look on your face._

"I talked with Arya," Blaster said as he stood. Mutagh looked at him as if he had gone mad. "The name of the elf, remember?" Blaster explained.

_What ails her?_ Sara asked, impatiently.

He told them all about the entire discussion.

"Now, if you will excuse me, I want to talk to Char," Blaster said. He walked over to her form, kneeled before her, and placed his right hand against her face, extremely similar to the Vulcan mind-meld. As soon as he closed his eyes, he extended a tendril of thought towards her through his hand and into her mind. _Char, can you hear me?_

_ Now there's a voice I never expected to hear again,_ Char's voice said. _Where are we?_

_Safe,_ Blaster replied. _We managed to get you and Arya out of Gil'ead. Of course, we nearly managed to get captured before-hand, but, we got you out. I was just checking in to see how you were doing._

Char seemed to laugh a bit. _I'm dying,_ she said, her voice as serious as she could get it. _There is a poison in me, and I cannot hold it off forever. Hence this deep state of kel-no-reim._

_Well, we are going to try and get the two of you to the Varden where there is an antidote,_ Blaster said. _Arya is weak, and we might have to fly you there on Saranya._

_Who?_

_ That silver stone was actually a dragon egg_, Blaster said. _I am now a Rider in this land. Mine is Saranya, and I hooked up with one other Rider, by the way, whose blue dragon is called Saphira. This Rider's name is Eragon._

_ Well, since it is far away, I suppose you should use your energy to make sure your rides don't tire between here and there._ She sighed. _What of my weapons?_

_I have them here._ He paused as he heard a growling. _I will let you rest, now. I want to make sure you have enough strength to get to the Varden in time. We gotta set our marriage date._

_ Until then,_ Char said. _Kai ga mov a no zu bac_. May the wind be at your back. Blaster retreated from Char's mind to find that Sara was looking at some point in the distance

"Okay," Blaster finally said. "What is going on?"

Sara hissed. _Look!_

They all followed the dragons' gaze westward. Blaster's eyes bulged. "Merlin's beard!"

No more than a league away from them was a column of figures marching east, parallel to the mountain range. Hundreds of troops stretched for nearly a mile, with dust billowing from their heels and their weapons glinted in what little light was left. A standard-bearer rode before them in a black chariot, holding up a crimson banner.

"It's the Empire," Blaster said. "They've found us…somehow." Sara poked her head over the shoulders of the others to gaze upon the column.

"Yes," Murtagh said. "But those aren't men. Those are Urgals."

* * *

><p><strong>Will Arya and Char survive? Where are the Urgals going? And, most importantly, will the gang escape from their enemy's grasp yet again? Find out in the next installment of <em>Free Riders.<em>**

**__**He is more learned in mind domination than he occasionally lets on. He's had practice. Please R&R.


	36. Ch35: Flight of the Riders

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 35: Flight of the Riders

"Urgals?" Blaster asked. "How can you tell?"

"That flag bears the personal crest of an Urgal chieftan," Murtagh said, pointing at the standard ahead of the column. "He's a ruthless brute, given his violent fits and insanity."

"I take it you've met him," Blaster said.

"Met him once, briefly," Murtagh said. He thought for a moment. "I still have scars from that encounter." He regained some of his seriousness. "Anyway, these Urgals might not have been sent for us, but I'm sure we've been seen by now and that they will follow us. Their chieftain isn't the type to let a dragon escape his grasp. _Especially_ if he's heard about what happened in Gil'ead."

"Then, we must flee," Blaster said, covering the fire with dirt. "I know you don't want to go to the Varden, but we have to take Arya and Char to them before they die. So, here's a compromise: I know you don't want to, but come with us until we reach the lake Kóstha-mérna, then go your own way." Murtagh hesitated, which gave Blaster time to say, "Leave now, in full view of the column, and the Urgals will follow you. It wouldn't be right to have you face them alone."

"Very well," Murtagh said. He began to saddle up. "But, once we are near the Varden, I _will_ leave."

"Of course," Blaster said. They all saddled up, secured the girls to Sara, then left.

_Which way shall we fly?_ Sara asked.

_East, along the range,_ Blaster replied. As Sara caught an updraft, a nasty thought came to his mind. _The Urgals might have been sent to attack the Varden. We must warn them._

They guided the horses past obstacles that were half-visible in the darkness. They continued even as the night hid the Urgals behind them. Every so often, they would alternate who slept until morning. Blaster meditated, gathering as much energy as his body could hold from the stars above. He continually used the energy to replenish that of the horses. It allowed them to take a considerable lead, but none of them could guess how long their lead could be maintained, though the horses were less exhausted.

They continued into the day, even after Sara mentioned that she needed sustenance, as she hadn't eaten in days. She dropped off Arya and Char so that they wouldn't be in danger. Blaster had lashed Char and Arya to Phillip's saddle, trying to give as much energy to the horse as he thought he could get away with.

About an hour after they had left, Sara had finished her meal. Blaster was glad, as he was a little nervous when she was away. They were stopped at a pool to allow the horses to drink, setting Arya and Char on the ground. Blaster had disappeared behind a tree. He became startled when he heard the rasp of a sword being unsheathed.

Having finished what he wanted to do, and telling Alice that Char had said "Hi," he emerged from the trees with Cratona at the ready. It was only Murtagh, and his sword was as ready as Blaster's. He pointed to a hill ahead of them, where a tall, brown-cloaked man sat on a sorrel horse, a mace in his hand. Behind him were twenty horsemen. No one moved.

"Could they be the Varden?" Murtagh asked.

"They're still tens of leagues away," Blaster said as unbuttoned his pistols, letting them hang loosely in their holsters. "They might be a patrol or a raiding group from them."

"Assuming they aren't bandits," Murtagh said. He swung onto Tornac and readied his own bow.

"Should we try to outrun them?" Blaster asked. He draped a blanket over Arya and Char. Blaster hoped the horsemen wouldn't know that Arya was an elf.

"Our horses are tired," Murtagh said. "They are fine war-horses, but not sprinters. The horses they have look like they are meant for running. We could probably get half a mile before they catch us. Besides, they might have something important to say." He paused. "Better tell Sara to get back here and fast."

Blaster explained the situation, then warned, _Do not show yourself unless absolutely necessary. True, we aren't in the Empire, but I don't want them to know about you unless it is unavoidable. I will be fine, plus I have magic. That should help greatly._

_I will be there as soon as I can,_ Sara said. As their connection closed enough so that they could still listen, Blaster looked at the band of men still on the hill. Blaster's free hand hovered over his pistol.

"If they threaten us, I can frighten them away with magic," Blaster said. "If that doesn't work, we have Sara. I wonder how they'd react to a Rider. They must have been told stories about their powers. It could be enough to avoid a fight."

"Don't count on it," Murtagh said. "If it does come down to a fight, we may just have to kill enough of them to convince them we aren't worth the effort."

"I don't like that idea," Blaster said, "but it might be the only other option we will have to stay alive."

The leader signaled with his mace, and the horsemen began cantering towards them. Some shook javelins over their heads, whooping loudly as they neared. Four had arrows trained on them, though Blaster had his eyes trained on their archers. Their weapons were stained and rust-covered, reminding Blaster of a blade similar to Cratona's old form.

The leader swirled his mace in the air, and his men responded, yelling and whooping as they encircled the duo. As soon as they were thoroughly surrounded, Blaster fished his way into the mind of the leader as he reigned in his horse and examined them critically.

"Well, these are better than the usual dregs we find!" he exclaimed with raised eyebrows. "At least we got healthy ones this time. And we didn't even have to shoot them. Greig will be pleased." The men chuckled. Blaster's emotionless expression was betrayed when it became suddenly hard.

_Sara, get here now_, Blaster said. _We may have issues._

"Now, as for you two," the leader said, looking at Murtagh and Blaster, "if you would be so kind as you drop your weapons, you'll avoid being turned into living quivers by my men." The archers grinned suggestively, the men laughed again.

Murtagh shifted his sword, but it was nothing compared to the movement of Blaster unholstering his pistol, turning off the safety in the process. "Who are you and what do you want?" Murtagh asked. "We are free men traveling through this land. You have no right to stop us."

"Oh, I have every right," the man said, contemptuously. "And as for my name, _slaves_ do not address their masters in that manner, unless they want to be beaten."

Blaster's hard expression got harder. He remembered the slave auctions in Dras-Leona. He pulled back the hammer on his pistol as the leader seemed to get angrier.

"Throw down your swords and surrender!" It was a tense moment as the slavers stared at them with cold eyes. None of them lowered their weapons. There was a rustling and one of the men cursed. Blaster turned around quickly and found that one of the slavers had pulled the blanket off Arya. Another had removed the one covering Char.

"Torkenbrand, this one's an elf!" the man near Arya shouted.

"Got another one here," the one near Char said. "She appears human."

"Well 'ow much are they worth?" someone asked as the leader spurred his horse over to Snowfire.

Torkenbrand was quiet for a moment, then spread his hands. "For the human, not a whole lot. For the elf, at the very least? Fortunes upon fortunes. The Empire will pay a mountain of gold for her!"

"I dunno," the man over by Char said. "I'd like to take this one home myself."

_Sara, attack,_ Blaster said as the slavers yelled with excitement. _Let those who escape go._ He shot Murtagh a quick signal as he felt his dragon fold her wings and plummet from the sky, high above them. Murtagh took the cue and smashed his elbow into a slaver's face, knocking the man from the saddle. He jabbed his heels into Tornac, who jumped forward, twirled around, and reared. Murtagh brandished his sword as Tornac fell back on all fours, driving his forehooves into the back of the dismounted slaver, who screamed.

Several loud bangs filled the air as several more slavers fell out of their saddles. Blaster had raised his pistol and fired upon three of the archers as well as the man who had uncovered Char. Blaster jumped over the slavers and landed right by his silver dragon as she landed heavily and bellowed.

"Behold, for I am a Rider," Blaster said as he sheathed his sword and pulled out his other pistol. "Basically," he said, pausing dramatically, "_run_!"

The men shouted incoherently and scrambled over each other and their fallen comrades as they attempted to escape. In the confusion, Torkenbrand took a javelin to the temple and tumbled to the ground, obviously stunned. The men ran, leaving their fallen leader behind, casting fearful looks at the two dragons as they went.

Blaster walked over to the man who he had shot over by Char. He holstered the full pistol, and transferred his other pistol to his other hand. Surprisingly, his shot had hit the man in the gut, since he was aiming for the heart. He aimed his pistol at the man's head.

"You picked the wrong day to mess with this woman's future husband," Blaster said. He pulled the trigger, killing the man instantly. He then heard the thump of another body hit the ground. He turned and saw Murtagh wiping his blade on the back of Torkenbrand's shirt. The slaver had been decapitated. "Why did you kill him?"

"Why are you so upset?" Murtagh asked.

"I'm not," Blaster said. "It was a little hasty, but still."

"He was dangerous," Murtagh said. "He wasn't going to get far with his buddies running off. I didn't want the Urgals to find him and learn about Arya."

"Good idea, but let's not get carried away next time," Blaster said.

"I'm only trying to stay alive," Murtagh said. "No stranger's life is more important than my own. You must be willing to protect yourself and that which you cherish, no matter what the cost."

"I guess he just learned that the hard way," Blaster said, indicating to the man he had just shot.

"You too?" Murtagh asked.

"He threatened to take my fiancé away from me, unwillingly," Blaster said. "He paid the consequences. It is a dirty job, I know, but I do what I can to protect myself and the one I love."

"I don't enjoy it either," Murtagh grumbled. "All my life, I have been threatened! All of my waking hours have been spent avoiding one danger or another. Sleep doesn't come easy for I fear I will not live to see the dawn. The only time I felt secure was in my mother's womb, though even then I wasn't safe. If you were in my shoes, you would have learned the same lesson I have: _Don't take any chances_." He gestured to Torkenbrand. "He was a risk, so I eliminated that risk. I will not repent, and I won't plague myself over something that is over and done."

"I agree," Blaster said. "It's too late to turn back the clock and change what has happened here. I do not condone such acts, and this one was rather hasty, but, you did what you felt was right. Not that I have much to say in defense anyway. But that's all water under the bridge now. We should get out of here before those Urgals catch up, or those slavers come back with much more men."

After securing Arya and Char to Sara, Blaster mounted up, following Murtagh and Tornac, leaving the bodies behind in the bloodstained dust. They rode faster than they would have thought was impossible a week ago. The leagues melted away as if wings had been attached to their steeds. They turned south between two outstretched arms of the Beors shaped like pincers about to close. The tips were easily a day's travel apart, but the size of the mountains made that estimate look too easy.

When they stopped for the day, Murtagh ate dinner in silence, refusing to look up from his food. When they were done, Blaster said, "I'll take the first watch. Get some rest. We will continue in the morning." Murtagh merely nodded and lay down on his bed roll.

Blaster spoke to Sara. _Like I said, Murtagh's actions were hasty, but what's done is done._

_I agree,_ Sara said. _What you did was hasty as well, but your future wife was threatened. Plus, with the Urgals at our backs, we can do nothing but continue forward. We couldn't let them have information about us._

_Well, we have to get to the Varden_, Blaster said. _We could be measuring the remaining lives of Arya and Char by hours or minutes if we don't hurry. I might have to get into my form in order to increase my magical power and transfer energy to the horses. We have a long way to go and a short time to get there. Let's get some rest and talk again in the morning._

Sara curled up next to Blaster, and the two leaned against each other. Blaster went into his meditative state and began to absorb as much energy as he could gather from the stars above him in preparation for the coming days while keeping his mind open to the energies of the Urgals.

* * *

><p><strong>Will they reach the Varden in time? Will the Urgals catch up? Can it be that Galbatorix is trying to wipe out his opposition? Find out next time in <em>Free Riders.<em>**

Yes, he can absorb the energies from the distant stars to replenish his own and that of others if necessary, but usually only at night, when everyone else is asleep. Therefore, he has a higher energy reserve than pretty much everyone else in this world. However, I do not plan on him using such high energy reserves until the final battle due to circumstances beyond his control. Can't make the last battle too easy or he will destroy Galbatorix with just the bat of an eyelash. Please R&R.


	37. Ch36: When the Urgals Come Marching In

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit. Title a reference to "When The Saints Come Marching In."

Chapter 36: When the Urgals Come Marching In

_I am still not going to repent_, Blaster said. He and Sara were flying, checking the path ahead and behind for Murtagh. _I know I killed him, but I was protecting that which is mine. She is my friend and future wife._

Sara growled. _I dunno why you are bothered by it. Let it go._

_Bank back to vector two-niner-zero,_ Blaster said. As they turned, Blaster saw Murtagh, and then further back, and his stomach flip-flopped. Camped by a streambed that they had crossed the previous evening were the Urgals. _Dive! Keep safe descent angle between six-zero and eight-zero._ Sara's dove to the ground. _Watch the deck._ As they dropped, Blaster began to think to himself. _Their chieftain must be pushing them at break-neck speeds._

_Hopefully, they will die of exhaustion before we do,_ Sara said. They pulled up and landed right by Murtagh.

"What now?" Murtagh grumbled. His temper hadn't improved.

"The Urgals are overtaking us," Blaster said simply, pointing towards the enemy camp.

"How far do we still have to go?" Murtagh said, using hands to measure the hours before sunset.

"Normally, I would say maybe five-days to our destination," Blaster said. "At the speed we've been going, maybe three days. But, unless we get there sometime tomorrow, the Urgals will probably have us, and both Arya and Char will certainly die."

"They might last another day," Murtagh said.

"I'm not going to gamble on that," Blaster objected. "The only way we can get to the Varden in time would be if we don't stop for anything, least of all sleep. That is our only chance."

"How do you expect we do that?" Murtagh protested. "We've already gone days without sufficient rest. Unless Riders are made of different stuff than us mortals, you're as tired as I am. We've covered a staggering distance, and the horses are about ready to drop, if you haven't noticed. Another day of this might kill us all."

"It's a gamble we'll have to take," Blaster said. "My energy reserves are full, and, if necessary, I will give up some of my energy to the horses so that they can continue. We might have a chance then. But, just so you know, Murtagh, I am not leaving you. These guys seem faster on foot than we are on horseback. We must get to the Varden and find sanctuary there."

Murtagh thought it over. "I'll escape later," he finally said. "When we get to the Varden, I can disappear down a side valley and find my way to Surda. I can hide there without attracting too much attention."

"So you will join us?" Blaster asked. "Maybe give Brom the benefit of the doubt?"

"With or without rest, I will see you to the Varden," Murtagh promised.

**_FRFRFRFRFR_**

After a day's work, the Urgals were a third closer than at the start of the day. Blaster led the horses while Murtagh slept, while Murtagh did the same while Blaster slept. The whole time, Blaster was half-meditating and gathering the energy from the stars again. His energy was transferred to the horses on a regular basis so they weren't as tired as they would have been. Occasionally, they got lost because Blaster was relying on Brom's directions. He saved himself several headaches by pulling up his map. They continued in the right direction until the sun rose. Looking back, the Urgals were far behind.

"This is the last day," Blaster said. "If we're not reasonably close to the Varden by noon, I'm gonna fly ahead with Arya and Char. Murtagh, you'll be free to go wherever you want then, but you'll have to take Phillip with you. I won't be able to come back for him."

"We could still get there in time," Murtagh said.

"We could," Blaster repeated, nodding. He put a hand on Arya's forehead and found that she was running hot. He placed a damp cloth on her brow to try and cool her down. Char was beginning to heat up as well. "Almost there, Char," he said. "We'll get you better in no time."

Late morning, they saw the Beartooth River flowing out of a small valley that was easy to miss if one wasn't paying attention. With their heading revealed, they looked back and saw that the Urgals had cut their lead to just over a league. How they were keeping it up was beyond them.

"We can slip into here," Blaster said, pointing to the valley. "If we can manage doing that without being seen, then we could confuse them and stall them enough to gain a lead."

"It's worth a try," Murtagh said, skeptical. "However, they've been able to follow us this easily so far. Not sure how effective it might be."

They approached the valley, passing under the knotted branches of the forest of the mountains. Trees had a dark bark, sometimes black, and the dull needles looked the same color. The roots of the trees occasionally emerged to the surface. Cones the size of horse heads littered the ground. High above, squirrels chattered in the treetops, and eyes seemed to follow them from every hollow of every tree. Wolfsbane hung from the branches in green sheets.

_This place is even creepier than Dracenor's lair_, Blaster thought. _These trees are old, but all the more unfriendly._ The further in they got, the denser the forest seemed to get. The lack of space had forced Sara to take off, and the underbrush slowed Blaster and Murtagh. Beside them was the gurgling water of the Beartooth. By now, the sun had hidden behind one of the mountains.

Though it looked small, the valley was as wide as many of the vales in the Spine. Once again, the mountains monstrous size worked to distort their perspective. The shear sides of the mountains had waterfalls, and, when they looked up, the sky was only a thin strip, mostly covered in grey clouds. Fog rose from the ground, and it soon got cold enough for the trio to see their own breath. The underbrush, including strawberries, grew in entangled vines, fighting to get what little sunlight the valley offered.

It surprised them when and Sara landed. The rush of her wings was strangely muted.

_Strange things linger in these mountains_, Sara said. _I saw a black and green bird with red markings._

_ I've seen stranger things,_ Blaster said. _I want to get a birds-eye view of these Urgals. Mind if I get a ride._

_ Not at all._

"The Varden are hidden at the end of this valley," Blaster said. "If we hurry, we might get there before nightfall."

"Well, how am I to get out of here?" Murtagh asked. "I haven't seen anything resembling a side valley joining with this one. The Urgals are going to block the entrance, and I need an escape route."

"There will be an exit," Blaster said. "It's a big valley." He took Char off Sara and lashed her to Phillip's saddle. He did the same to Arya. "Take care of them. We're going to go flying for a bit. We'll catch up to you later."

"Be careful," Murtagh warned as Blaster scrambled onto his dragon.

"Always am," Blaster said. Murtagh led the horses away, back into the forest.

As Sara took to the skies, Blaster thought for a moment. _Wouldn't it be nice to fly up to the peaks? We might be able to catch some sort of view of our destination, as well as a side valley for Murtagh._

_ We can try,_ Sara replied. _It will get rather cold, though._

_ I'm good,_ Blaster said. _Just watch that altimeter. We get too high, we won't have enough air to breathe._

_ Okay, hang on._

Sara began to climb through the air. Blaster checked his own altimeter and watched as their height exceeded three thousand feet. At around five thousand, they entered the clouds. Cold water droplets hit them as their vision was diminished to less than ten feet. Within a few seconds, Blaster's clothes were soaked.

A quick dart of grey shot past Blaster. It turned out to be a dove, flapping frantically with a white band around its leg. It squawked as Sara tried to eat it out of the air, but missed. It flew away, frantically. Blaster wasn't concerned with that. His wrist computer was giving him temperatures below freezing, and they were climbing past twelve thousand. Finally, at around eighteen thousand feet, they exploded out of the cloud layer. Tiny rainbows came from the water droplets on Sara's scales.

The only things visible at this height were the clouds and the snow-capped peaks. All of the peaks were much higher than Blaster expected. He was accustomed to the glare, so he could see clearly. Smiling, he got slowly colder as the water droplets solidified into ice. As ice began to coat Sara's wings, he looked at the altimeter once more.

_Okay, Sara,_ Blaster said. _Descend. Maximum twenty degree angle. The air up here isn't sufficient for even human life._

Sara complied, her breathing slowly becoming labored. They plunged back into the cloud layer, then emerged under the cloud layer a few moments later.

_How come it was so hard to breathe up there?_ Sara asked.

_Pressure,_ Blaster said. _You still had air up there, but it wasn't dense enough to breathe. You'd need to compress the air in order to fly that high._ He was busy looking at the Urgals behind Murtagh. They had reached the valley mouth. Taking a closer look, since they were closer than ever, Sara noticed something different.

_They are larger than I had anticipated_, she said. _I would imagine they would stand much taller than a man. They must come from a fierce place to be such brutes._

_ They'll overtake Murtagh at this pace,_ Blaster said. An idea came to him. _We may have the advantage._

_How so?_

_We are above them. They wouldn't expect a sudden attack from the air. I need to get my grenades again. Go find Murtagh._

They finally found Murtagh stopped in a small clearing, kneeling before a large track in the ground.

"What's wrong?" Murtagh asked. He sounded worried, angry, and exhausted at the same time.

"The Urgals are now in this valley," Blaster said. He fished out a small vial of blue potion, and he picked up his small bag that he got from Gil'ead. Murtagh thumbed the print behind him.

"Just found some wolf tracks," he said, "but the prints are as wide as both my hands and an inch deep. There might be animals around here that could be dangerous to dragons." He turned to them. "I know you can't enter the forest, but you could circle above me and the horses. That should scare the beasts away. Otherwise, there might only be enough left of me to roast in a thimble."

"Was that a hint of humor there, Murtagh?" Blaster asked, a weak smile on his face.

"Only on the gallows," Murtagh said, rubbing his eyes. "I can't believe the same Urgals have been following us all this time. They would have to be birds to catch up with us."

"Sara said they look larger than any we've ever seen," Blaster said. Murtagh cursed.

"Well, that would explain it," Murtagh said. "If what you saw is correct, then those are Kull, the Urgal elite. They don't ride because horses are unable to carry their massive bulk. Not one is less than eight-foot tall, and they are good endurance runners, able to run for days without sleep and still be ready for battle. They never leave their caves except for war, so they must expect a great slaughter if they're out in such force. They are resilient too; it could take five men to kill one Kull. I should have guessed the chieftain was in charge of them."

"Is it possible to stay ahead of them?" Blaster asked.

"Who knows?" Murtagh said. "They are strong, determined, and large in numbers. It's possible that we may have to face them. If that should happen, I hope that the Varden have men posted nearby who'll help up. Despite our skill and Sara, we can't hold off the Kull."

"Well, I suggest we get going," Blaster said. He pulled out some old bread from Sara's saddle bags. Murtagh was looking at the valley walls, looking for a way out. "There will be one further in. If not, then I suggest you get ready to humor Brom."

"Of course," Murtagh said with forced optimism.

"How are they doing?"

"Their fevers are getting worse," Murtagh said. "Arya's been tossing and turning, but Char hasn't started that yet. Their strength is failing. You should fly them to the Varden before the poison does anymore damage."

"And leave you to the Kull?" Blaster said. "No, I will not leave you behind."

"As you wish," Murtagh said. "But I warn you, they won't live if you stay with me."

"If they get too bad, smash one of the blue vials in my bag on their heads," Blaster said. "The potion will get absorbed, and they should get enough strength back to survive until we reach the Varden. If that doesn't help, smash one of the green vials on their heads." Blaster checked his bag before strapping it to his hip.

Murtagh swung onto Tornac and trotted away. Once Blaster was strapped back in, they took to the skies.

* * *

><p><strong>Will the girls survive? How long can Blaster halt the Kull's progress? Or will it be too late for everyone? Find out in the next, boring...I mean exciting chapter of <em>Free Riders.<em> Returning Tuesdays and Fridays.**


	38. Ch37: Guns Akimbo

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 37: Guns Akimbo

_I really want to know your opinion_, Blaster said as Sara flew high above the advancing hoard.

_If we left, then tried to return for Murtagh, they wouldn't let us,_ Sara said. _For all they know, we might be returning to inform the Urgals about their hiding place._

_Yeah, we aren't exactly arriving at the best of circumstances,_ Blaster said. _I suppose we just tell them the truth and hope they believe us._

_Then what happens if the Kull attack Murtagh?_

_ We won't let them,_ Blaster said. _We will attack first._

_ I hardly believe we would kill that many Urgals without getting ourselves killed,_ Sara said.

_Not unless we bomb them_, Blaster said. _ Weren't you listening to me before? Pick up some boulders, and we'll drop some of them on the Kull. They should scatter, assuming that they don't have iron for skulls, and steel for muscles._

Sara banked right and dropped to the Beartooth. Picking up a mid-sized boulder, Blaster pulled out his sword, dulled the blade, then, with a swish and a flick, tested another magic he knew. "_Wingardium Leviosa."_ To his, and Sara's surprise, another, slightly smaller boulder rose from the ground. _Well, I guess that magic works as well._ Blaster pulled out a grenade from his bag.

Once at altitude, Blaster adjusted his computer to show a bomber's view. Once they were overtop of the Kull, they dropped the boulders. Seconds later, Blaster pulled the pin on the grenade. He threw it over with the boulders. Muffled cracks were heard as the missiles fell to the ground, cracking branches as they went. A second later, howls were heard through the valley. As they went to get more ammo, Blaster's grenade exploded, causing more of the Kull to howl in pain.

It was impossible to stop the Kull's pace with their attacks, but they were able to slow them down considerably. They were nearly invisible, and well out of reach of any arrows that might have been fired at them. As the sun began to set, it became increasingly harder to find the Kull, yet Blaster kept dropping grenades, hoping that the horses and Murtagh were well out of the way.

When true darkness fell, not even the dragons were able to sense where the Urgals were. They began to listen for the sound of falling water. They finally saw a streak of white ahead.

_We should get back to Murtagh,_ Blaster said. _If the Varden know we are coming, we might get someone to come out to help us, assuming they know if we are a friend._

Blaster looked in his bag of explosives and found that he had used almost a third of the remaining grenades in the bombardment. When they landed, Blaster loosened Cratona from its sheath. Sara crouched, ready to take off again. The sound of pounding hooves soon fell upon their ears.

Within seconds, Murtagh and the horses appeared. Blaster jumped off Sara. He began to run after Murtagh, soon keeping pace. Sara went to the riverbed so that they could run with them without taking out half of the forest with her. Before either Rider could say a word, Murtagh said, "I saw you dropping rocks…and those grenades. It's rather ambitious, if you ask me. Have the Kull stopped or turned back?"

"Negative," Blaster said. "They've slowed, though, so that's good. Plus, we've nearly made it to the end of the valley. How are they?"

"They haven't died," Murtagh said, his breath coming in short bursts. "That blue stuff really helped them out. Their fevers have gone down a bit, but not all the way." His next words were deceptively calm, with undertones of someone with a terrible passion. "Is there a valley or gorge by which I might be able to escape?"

Even though they were in the air, Blaster hadn't thought about trying to find a side valley by which Murtagh could escape. His plight hadn't occurred to him. He dodged a low branch, then said, "It's dark, and we could have missed something, but…no."

"Alright," Murtagh said with a sigh, still running. "I guess I should humor Brom. But I will not let anyone into my mind unless I say so, and I don't say so."

"Brom, I am sure, will want to search your mind and make sure you are telling the truth," Blaster said. "If you ask, I will bet that he'll be extra careful to not desecrate your last true sanctuary."

"That is fine by me," Murtagh said. "But, knowing them, they'll want me locked up."

"Because you were born to a man who was no more a beast as a bear?" Blaster asked. "I will not allow you to trouble yourself with that. Forge your own path. You are not your father, so don't pretend that you are."

"Thanks, but I don't need a pep-talk right now," Murtagh said. Within a few minutes, the roar of a waterfall grew until they appeared in a clearing. In front of them was the lake. "What now?"

"We head to the right," Blaster said over the din. "The entrance is near the waterfall."

"Okay, let's go," Murtagh said. They walked along the right bank, which was only wide enough for one person to travel at a time. Sara burst out of the lake, trying to surprise them, but it agitated them more than anything. She slid under the surface again with the plan to strike at the Urgals before they had the chance to attack Blaster and Murtagh. They were almost at the waterfall when the shouts of the Urgals alerted them to the clearing they had just emerged from.

Blaster raced to the end of the waterfall. Here the path widened, allowing some maneuverability. The Urgals split in half, each going down one side, blocking their exit. Thankfully they were forced single-file along the banks, and with nothing behind them but a sheer rock face, they were easy prey for when Sara darted out and ripped the first few off of the line heading directly towards them. She slipped back under the water to avoid taking a hit and emerged on the other side, stopping that line from advancing.

"Now what?!" Murtagh shouted over the din.

Blaster picked up a large rock and shouted, "Aí varden abr du Shur'tugalar gata vanta." He banged on the wall and repeated the phrase. Nothing happened. Blaster tried again, but got no response. He turned around and saw Sara getting stabbed in the snout by spears thrown by the Urgals. She slipped back under the surface and both lines continued forward. Finally, Blaster had had enough.

"What are you doing?!" Murtagh asked.

"I'm trying to save our lives!" Blaster replied. He ripped open his saddlebag and pulled out his shotgun, since his AK and his sniper rifle were still with Samson. Making sure the shotgun was loaded with the necessary six rounds, he cocked the gun, aimed it at the advancing Urgals and fired. One Kull fell to the ground, but the ones behind him trampled over him, ignoring the new obstacle on their path. Blaster reloaded with a pump of the shotgun and fired again. This time, two went down at once. Another shot and the kill count was at four. By the time he had used all six cartridges, he had slain eight Kull. Quickly reloading the gun from his ammo pouch, he fired six more, killing an additional seven Kull.

Reloading again took a little time, but he had enough to start taking out some of the two dozen on the other side with his slugs since he knew the grape pellets wouldn't work that well at far range. Of the battalion of almost fifty Kull, only ten on each side remained, but they were approaching fast. Sara erupted out of the water again, taking three out in one surprise strike on the far side. Blaster reloaded one last time and fired six more shots, taking out six on the near side.

Once the Kull on the near side were within fifty yards, Blaster turned to his pistol, dropping his shotgun to the ground. By the end of the first clip, three more were dead. Three bullets of the next clip were emptied into the last one on the near side, with the remaining seven dropping three more on the other side. In another surprise attack, Sara took out two, leaving only two on the far side. Blaster could easily take them out, but they were retreating back to the clearing, where another four dozen had appeared an started to march towards them.

"Man, times like this I wish I had my AK," Blaster muttered. He reloaded his pistol and picked up his shotgun. Just as the next round of Kull began their march towards them, he heard a low rumble. Behind him, a door inlayed in the stone opened up. On the other side was Brom, holding Blaster's machine gun.

"Everyone inside," Brom said. With amazing skills having not wielded the weapon before, Brom squeezed off bursts of fire, from the machine gun. However, Blaster knew that he had all the bullets for it, so it astonished him that his gun was firing without ammunition. Then it hit him. Brom must have known that the clip was empty and used some form of magic to fill the clip with projectiles. And each one hit their mark.

_Sara, fall back,_ Blaster said. Sara erupted from the lake and led the procession into the doors. Murtagh and the horses were next, followed by Blaster and Brom. Just as the magically filled clip was expended, arrows black as night erupted from the walls. The Kull were taken by surprise when foot soldiers attacked from behind, attempting to kill any their blade could reach.

Once inside, Blaster turned around to see a dwarf, muttering, "What the hell was he thinking?" The dwarf was no more than four feet tall, and had a long braided beard. He wore a sleeveless chain-mail jacket, showing off his large muscles, and he would need them if he were to wield the war axe hanging from his leather belt. He looked at the fighting longingly and said, "Barzul, but I wish I could join them!"

Blaster looked at his surroundings and saw he was in a tunnel thirty feet tall that bored into the mountain. Twelve-foot-thick doors separated them from the fighting. A line of flameless lamps filled the hallway with a pale sapphire light that spilled out to the lake. Sara and Murtagh were by the tunnel, surrounded by dwarves and men alike. A bald, beardless man stood at Murtagh's elbow, taller than the other humans, wearing purple and golden robes, and he had a dagger to Murtagh's throat.

"What is the meaning of this?" Brom demanded.

"They must be examined," the bald man said. "If this one doesn't submit, then he will die. Especially since we need to know how a battalion of Kull is at our front doorstep. They could have led them here and were going to attack us when possible."

"How about this," Blaster said. "You ask me. For this matter, we did not lead the Kull here, nor did we have any wish to harm the Varden or those who ally with them. We have sworn these in the ancient language." He sighed and began to dive into his vocabulary in the ancient language. "Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur'tugal, thornessa er du ilumëo."

"See, and that means you can let him go," Brom said.

"Your words are still meaningless until you've been examined," the bald man said.

"Then let me," Brom said. The bald man looked shocked. "Or would you rather explain to Ajihad that you refused to let a former Rider, who is more versed in magic and mind infiltration than you'll ever be, was denied the ability to scan for motives? I already have you for nearly getting these two killed by the Kull in the first place."

"Do what you wish," the bald man said. "However, we must do the ceremony proper."

"Of course," Brom said. "But you will release him." The bald man agreed. "And, take these two to the healers." He thumbed Char and Arya. "They've been rescued from Gil'ead and should be in one hell of a state."

"They need Tunivor's Nectar to save their lives," Blaster said. "And you will do well to heed Brom's advice for the one is the egg-courier Arya, and the other is my future wife. If either were allowed to die, you'd get one hell of an earful from me."

"Very well," the bald man said. "Take them to the healers, but allow no one else until the ceremony is complete."

Some of the soldiers went to the horses and led them along the tunnel. The bald man beaconed and, dragging Murtagh with him, followed the soldiers. Thankfully, he had lowered the knife, which comforted Blaster a bit. The oversized doors closed behind Brom, sealing them in the tunnel and the Kull out. The bald man led them down a side tunnel, past sculptures of animals Blaster had never seen before.

Finally, after taking many side corridors, the group entered a large white marble room, filled with the light from the flameless lanterns. The heavy wooden doors boomed closed behind them and the scraping of a bolt being thrown could be heard. Brom walked over to where the bald man stood with Murtagh.

"Alright, Blaster," Brom said, "as a precaution, you will need to relinquish your weapons and step away from Sara so that I can see into your mind without much interference."

Reluctantly, Blaster turned on the safety on all his weapons and tossed them over to Brom. He thought he was done, but he quickly removed Cratona from his belt and tossed it on top of his guns. He took two steps forward.

_Before we begin, I want you to let me know when you are being read by that one and read that one for me for his mind defenses are strong,_ Brom said, silently.

"I am ready," Blaster said. As soon as he said that, he felt Brom slowly worm his way through his mind. He sifted through the fake memories, finding nothing important, but another tendril of thought pierced through and took hold of one of the fake memories. Instantly, Blaster threw up his strongest mind defense and he barely nodded his head to Brom, who withdrew.

"I thought I said that I would scan him," Brom said. "If you do not stop this incessant act for superiority, you're going on report! I am stronger than you will ever be alone, and both of these guys will be as well, only moreso."

The bald man was furious. "And you think you can come in and take over what we have done for the longest time?"

"I know what I am doing," Brom countered.

At this point, Blaster didn't care. He extended a tendril of thought into the bald man's mind, and one that the bald man couldn't counter unless he had extreme training like Blaster had. As he sifted through the bald man's thoughts, Brom began sifting through Blaster's again. Finally, Blaster found something in the mind of the bald man that he didn't want to see.

He picked up a memory of the bald man and one that looked just like him. Twins. And the man before them, shaking their hands in turn for volunteering for a mission to infiltrate and destroy the Varden, must have been Galbatorix himself. With one thought that he put in the back of his mind, easy for Brom to find, he knew what they were. Traitors.

* * *

><p><strong>Will the duo be accepted? Did they get to the Varden in time? What will become of the bald man and his twin? Find out in the next chapter of <em>Free Riders.<em> Special TRIPLE chapter edition continues next.**


	39. Ch38: CSI Varden

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit. Title is a nod to the "CSI" franchise.

Chapter 38: CSI: Varden

After a few more minutes of searching, Brom withdrew and Blaster swayed ever so slightly. "I'm done."

"And what did you find?" Orik grunted.

"He is not your enemy, nor will he ever be" Brom projected. There were sighs of relief.

_Are you hurt?_ Sara asked.

_Nothing I won't recover from_, Blaster said. He began to think about what he had learned from the man.

"Now, your turn," the man said to Murtagh, who was now at sword-point.

Murtagh stiffened and shook his head, making the sword to cut into his neck slightly. "No," he said, defiantly.

"You will not be protected here if you refuse," the bald man replied.

"Blaster has been declared trustworthy, so you cannot threaten to kill him to influence me. And, since you can't do that, nothing you can say or do will convince me to open my mind."

"What of your own life?" the bald man asked, raising what was supposed to be an eyebrow. "I can still threaten it."

"Won't do you any good," Murtagh said. His tone suggested he was serious.

The bald man appeared to explode in fury. "You don't have a choice!" He stepped forward, grabbed Murtagh to keep him still and placed his other palm on Murtagh's forehead. Murtagh stiffened, face like iron, fighting back with all his strength, much to the bald man's displeasure. His fingers dug mercilessly into Murtagh.

_Well, this just confirms it,_ Blaster muttered. _Do not ever trust that man._ He paused. _Or his twin, because I found out through his mind that he has a twin. They are the traitors._

_I wasn't planning on it_, Sara replied.

As they watched, Orik scowled darkly with increasing anger. Finally, he muttered, "Ilf carnz orodüm." He leapt forward and shouted, "That's enough!" He grabbed the bald man's arm and wrenched it away from Murtagh with such strength, Blaster was astonished. However, the bald man wasn't thrilled.

"How dare you!" he shouted. "You questioned my leadership, opened the gates without permission, and now this! You've shown nothing but insolence and treachery. Do you think your king will protect you now?"

"And you would have let them die!" Orik replied. "If we had waited any longer, even with this one's blasting stick, they would have been killed by the Urgals." He pointed to Murtagh, who was breathing raggedly, like a runner who had just run a marathon. "We haven't the right to torture him for information! Ajihad won't sanction it. Not after Brom examined the Rider and found him free of fault. _And_ they've brought us Arya."

_So my suspicions and what I found out might be true_, Blaster thought.

"Would you allow him to enter unchallenged?" the bald man roared. "Are you so great a fool as to put us all at risk?" He looked more like a feral beast that was ready to tear the dwarf to pieces.

"Can he use magic?"

"That is—"

"Can he use magic?!" Orik roared. The bald man's face suddenly grew expressionless. He clasped his hands behind his back.

"No," he said, simply.

"Then what do you fear?" Orik said, calmly. "It's impossible for him to escape, and he can't work any devilry with all of us here, especially if your powers are as great as you say. But don't listen to me. Go and as Ajihad what he wants done."

"Or, better yet, let someone who knows what they're doing do it," Brom protested. He shoved the bald man out of the way. "And I will not have you help me." He turned to Murtagh. "Now, Murtagh, will you lower the barriers around your mind for examination, please? I will do my best to keep the sanctity of your mind." The entire court let out a gasp at the name, which caused Blaster to groan.

"My mind has been my last sanctuary and no one has been able to, nor allowed to breech it, though they have tried," Murtagh breathed. "I will not allow any one in, least of all him," he added, pointing to the bald man.

"And you won't allow me in because I killed your father in combat?" Brom asked. There was a collective gasp.

"Barzûl," Orik shouted. "He's brought us the enemy." The bald man's lips curled into a sneer. Blaster noticed this and decided to tell Brom about it next chance he got. Finally, Murtagh spoke above the din of protesting soldiers.

"Silence!" he shouted. He got it a few seconds later. "I will allow Brom to access my mind. And _only_ Brom."

The bald man nodded and muttered a promise in the Ancient Language. Relieved, Brom infiltrated Murtagh's mind. It was a tense few minutes. Finally, Brom removed himself from Murtagh. Murtagh looked worried, but Brom merely nodded.

"Though he had promised to aid Galbatorix when the time came in the common language, he has been careful to distance himself from the king," Brom announced. "He is not our enemy."

"Surely you jest," the bald man said. "What with his father's actions."

"But they were his _father's_ actions," Brom countered. "Not his."

"He must have tricked you with his mind," the bald man said. "I shall remove the correct information myself."

Brom tried, but failed to keep the bald man away. Murtagh was once again under the onslaught from the man, but it only lasted a few seconds. Blaster had magically summoned his pistol, turned off the safety and fired right into the man's outstretched arm. It broke the man's concentration enough for Blaster to begin smothering the man's mind with his own.

"You deny the truth?" Blaster demanded, his eyes beginning to glow a light red. "Even after you were told in the Ancient Language that what we said was true? I'm sure Ajihad will hear about this. Don't make it into a full blown confrontation, because I will if you don't stop." The whole room was quiet until the bolt to the door was drawn back and said doors opened. Half a dozen guards all ran in, their swords bare. "Will you stand down?" The bald man started to speak in the Ancient Language, but Blaster cut him off with another shot, imbedding the bullet into one of the wooden chairs that were on the sides. "I suggest you do, or else the next one is going right between the eyeballs."

Reluctantly, the bald man bowed and Blaster lowered his pistol and ended his onslaught on the man's mind. Finally, the man said, "You will stay here overnight while we decide the next best course of action."

Blaster nodded, then watched as everyone except himself, Sara, and Murtagh began to leave. Brom halted for a second and turned around. _Any message you wish to relay to Char if I can reach her?_

_Yes,_ Blaster answered. _Tell her to suppress her memories of our universe to others that do not already know. If anyone asks, she came from the north, found a way to teleport herself, ended up with Arya when she got ambushed, and had no idea what she had found one day was a dragon egg._ He paused. _Also, keep an eye on that man and his twin. They might have it in for Murtagh for fleeing the king._

Brom smirked, bowed slightly, then left the room. The heavy wooden doors were moved back into place, and locked from the outside. Not that it mattered much with Blaster's magic. Plus, if he was pressed, he could summon his blade in a shower of sparks and a flash of light and use it to unlock the door if he aimed the tip of the blade right. Even so, without that, the blade, he assumed, would probably be sharp enough to slice through the lock like butter. Even though he could escape, Blaster decided against it in favor of not giving the Varden a worse impression than he had already given.

"So, Murtagh," Blaster finally said. "Might I have a look at your past myself? I would ask you to tell me the whole story, but, even if I am able to read it from your mind, you're still basically telling me."

"Normally, I would say no," Murtagh said. "I have given my life to protect my mind from outside invasion. As I have said before, it is my last sanctuary that I have, and no one will take it away."

"I never said I would be using it for evil intent," Blaster said. "I promise I will only read what you have memory-wise and try not to cause you undue pain if I can avoid it."

Murtagh thought for a moment. "Okay. But I'm going to give you the abridged version of my history. There are some things that I really don't think you need to know, like when I lost my first tooth or how bad my grades were being home-schooled."

Blaster nodded, then extended a tendril of thought towards Murtagh's mind. He skimmed Murtagh's mind and found himself in an intense story, starting with what he was told about his birth. He'd been given to a nursemaid because his mother, Morzan's wife, was the notorious Black Hand. At three, his back was torn open by Zar'roc, and his father died soon after. His mother arrived just as news came that Morzan was dead, ill, and she died within a fortnight.

Then, Blaster felt a skip, because Murtagh really didn't have many important things between when his mother died and when he was called by Galbatorix to find a way to restore the Riders to their former glory. Few weeks past that, the King was fuming, having lost three brigades in the south, and he ordered Murtagh to destroy Cantos, including those who were innocent. Murtagh then tried to escape, and was ambushed. That ambush killed his mentor and faithful servant, Tornac. After that, Murtagh layed low and listened in until he heard news of a couple of targets for the Ra'zac to take care of, which is how Murtagh found Blaster in the first place.

Being sure to not dive or press for any more information, Blaster withdrew, now knowing the whole story. He didn't need to search for more info anyway. He'd gotten what he wanted to know, and that was a better understanding of Murtagh. The trials he'd been through, the tribulations he had overcome, all played out in the man now before him.

"I have to say that your future must be looking up for you," Blaster said. "I doubt anyone other than yourself has actively escaped Galbatorix from right under his nose. An accomplishment that deserves much praise, in my opinion. I should commend you."

"You just did," Murtagh deadpanned. Blaster just smirked and healed Sara's punctured snout. Murtagh sighed, then asked, "Was it just me, or did that bald guy look familiar."

"To you, maybe," Blaster admitted. "Did he ever work for Galbatorix?"

"I do vaguely remember someone," Murtagh said. "Actually _two_ someones that looked exactly alike."

"Twins," Blaster said. "And no, it isn't just you. They are familiar to you because they are those men. I have seen it, and I hope to inform Ajihad about their trust here as soon as I get the chance. But, for now, let's just get some rest. I'm sure we'll need it."

Murtagh agreed, and, after they had a small meal that was served to them through the door, the three of them were fast asleep.

* * *

><p><strong>The secret is out. Will the Twins be disciplined? Or will they be driven out? Will Murtagh be safe with the Varden? Where has Eragon disappeared to in all of this? Find out the answers to these and more in the next <em>Free Riders.<em> Coming next.**


	40. Ch39: Tronjheim, The City of Stone

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit. Title a nod to "El Dorado, City of Gold" or "Venice, City of Water."

Chapter 39: Tronjheim, the City of Stone

Murtagh woke with a start early the next morning. He had heard a growling, but he was unable to place it. He sat up, looked around, and saw that it was only Sara, snoring in her sleep. He yawned and stretched, cracking some joints in his stiff back. Another growl startled him.

Murtagh looked over at Blaster, who was sitting against Sara's belly, looking as if he was still asleep. Murtagh slowly approached until he was right next to Blaster. Slowly, he started to move his hand closer to Blaster's chest. Before it got anywhere within half-a-foot from him, Blaster muttered, "You do, and it'll be the last thing you do with that hand for a while."

Murtagh jumped back in shock. "You're awake?"

"Have been for about half the night," Blaster replied, slowly getting to his feet. "I don't sleep for very long usually. Sometimes, I go for days with insomnia, but that's when I meditate to rest. You know what time it is? My computer didn't come with a clock."

"Kind of impossible to tell from in here," Murtagh said.

"It disturbs me," Blaster said. "It's been hours, and yet, they have sent no one for us."

They sat together, silently. Blaster absentmindedly tapped at his wrist computer and finally found the clock (he had hidden it under 'Settings'). Within a few minutes, Sara stirred from her rest. She yawned, the tip of her tongues curling upwards until she was done.

_Has anything happened yet?_ Blaster shook his head. _I'm getting hungry,_ Sara admitted. _I could eat a whole herd of cattle as opposed to that late-night snack I got before we went to bed._

_They'll feed you,_ Blaster assured.

_They'd better_, Sara replied. She positioned herself by the door, waiting with her tail flicking. Blaster took the time to examine one of the lamps in the room. It was made of a single piece of glass shaped like a teardrop. Within it was a soft blue light that neither wavered nor flickered. Four slim metal ribs surrounded the glass smoothly, meeting at the top to form a small hook, and joining again at the bottom where they melded into three graceful legs.

Blaster kept inspecting the lantern until he heard voices in the hallway. Moments later, the door opened and a dozen men marched inside, the first of which gulped at the sight of Sara. The bald man and Orik appeared as well.

"You have been summoned to Ajihad, leader of the Varden," the bald man exclaimed. "If you must eat, do so while we march." He turned away.

"Where are our horses?" Murtagh asked. "And our weapons?"

The bald man looked at them with distain. "Your weapons will be returned to you when Ajihad sees fit, not before. Your horses, however, await you in the tunnels. Now come!"

"What of Arya?" Blaster asked as the bald man prepared to leave. "And Char?"

The man hesitated. "I do not know. The healers are still with them." He exited the room, Orik in tow.

"You first," one of the men ordered. Blaster walked through the door, followed by Sara and Murtagh. They traveled back through the corridor they traveled the night before. Once they had reached the large tunnel that they had entered the mountain with, they saw Orik with the reigns to the horses.

"You will ride single file down the center of the tunnel," the bald man explained. "Any attempt to go elsewhere will be stopped." Blaster attempted to climb onto Sara. "No! Ride your horse until I tell you otherwise."

"Yes, slave-driver," Blaster muttered. He climbed onto Phillip. _Stay close, Saranya._

_I will,_ Sara replied. _I just wish you'd stop interchanging my name length at will._

After inspecting the line, the bald man ordered the warriors to surround them, half on each side, giving a wide berth to Sara, who was lined up behind her Rider. Once happy, the bald man and Orik went to the front of the procession. One last look and the bald man clapped, ordering them forward. Every hoof-step was amplified by the vast and deserted tunnel. When there were openings in the sides of the passage, they saw only doors or gates, each one shut.

Blaster had to marvel in the handiwork of the builders. Whoever mined this tunnel did it with such precision, he couldn't have done it with a tunnel excavator to the Rockies. All the surfaces were smooth, the walls were perfectly square to the floor, and it didn't surprise Blaster that the entire tunnel didn't deviate by even an inch, which was impressive, given the technology.

It was obviously dwarven work, but Blaster was wondering about the dwarves themselves. Were they a part of the Varden, or merely sheltering them? More and more questions rattled around in their heads. Where were the elves if the Varden were hidden here? Was Ajihad this king that Orik had mentioned before?

Blaster was soon focusing on Ajihad. From the stories that he had been told, Ajihad was a mysterious figure to the Empire. He rose to power twenty years ago, and it was rumored that he was a brutal fighter to go with his other trait of a master strategist. It was disturbing how they would be received, but if Brom trusted him, then Blaster could trust them…to a point.

For over an hour, the bald man led them through the tunnel, more than a league from where they started. Slowly, a slight glow came from the end of the tunnel. As they neared it, the glow turned into thick marble pillars laced with rubies and amethysts that lined the walls. Lanterns hung between pillars, allowing them to see the details of the inlayed gold on the base of the pillars. A pair of delicately carved raven heads arched over the ceiling, beaks open in mid-screech. They stopped before two massive black doors were at the end of the hallway, accented by silver lines depicting a seven-pointed crown that spanned both sides.

"You will ride your dragon now," the bald man said. "Do not attempt to fly away. There'll be people watching, so remember who and what you are."

"I know exactly who and what I am," Blaster replied as he jumped from Phillip to Sara. _Seems to me they want to show us off. I really don't like that._

_I'm in agreement,_ Sara replied as Blaster settled into the saddle, not bothering to tighten his leg straps.

Blaster merely nodded, as if to say "Yes, let's get this over with."

"Good," the bald man said. He and Orik retreated to either side of Sara, staying far enough back so that she was clearly in the lead. "Now walk to the doors, and once they open, follow the path. Go slowly."

_You ready?_ Sara asked.

_As I'll ever be,_ Blaster replied. _You?_

_ Of course._ Sara approached the doors at a measured pace, her scales glinting and reflecting light onto the pillars as she passed. Blaster took a deep breath to calm his nerves. He'd been in front of a large group before, just not paraded like the High School Cheerleading float. Before anyone could even flinch, the doors swung outward on hidden hinges. Rays of sunlight beamed into the tunnel, falling on Blaster and Sara, as they were first. They were temporarily blinded, but soon gasped.

Blaster looked around and saw that they were in the middle of a massive volcanic crater. A small ragged opening was high above, but it was impossible to see how high it was. It could have been several miles, could have been a dozen, could have been more. What appeared to be miles away was the crater's far side, hazy blue in the distance. High above them were icicles that were at least hundreds of feet across and thousands of feet, occasionally over a mile long. As they looked closer to the base of the crater, they saw mats of moss and lichen covering the rocks.

Ahead of them was a wide cobblestone path that went from the threshold to the base of a snowy-white mountain that glittered with thousands of lights like an uncut gem. It was easily a mile tall, though it only looked less than a tenth the height of the crater. The tunnel behind them had only taken them through one side of the crater wall.

"Look well, humans, for no Rider have set eyes upon this for nigh over a hundred years," Orik said. "At least, until Eragon showed up. The airy peak under which we stand is Farthen Dûr—discovered thousands of years ago by the father of our race, Korgan, as he tunneled for gold. And in the center stands our greatest achievement: Tronjheim, the city-mountain built from the purest marble." The doors ground to a halt.

Blaster then saw the crowd and froze. Humans and dwarves alike lined the cobblestone path by the thousands. Every eye and face was focused on Blaster. Dirty smocked children, hardy men, women in dress, and weathered dwarves who fingered their beards all wore taut expression similar to that of a cornered and injured animal with no way to escape. Blaster, finally aware that he was to move first, raised a hand toward the crowd.

A single cheer pierced the silence, then a loud clapping. The crowd hesitated for a moment, then a wild roar swept through it. "Very good," the bald man said. "Now start walking."

Blaster and Sara walked forward, the crowd shying away from Sara after she exhaled a puff of smoke before intensifying the enthusiasm. Sara then stopped in the middle of the hall.

_Sara, what are you doing?_ She didn't respond. She crouched down. _Saranya!_ She growled a bit, then thrust her body into the air. _SARANYA!_ She started to fly around, buzzing over the crowd and doing aerial stunts. When the crowd was roaring in excitement, she landed at the head of the procession again. Blaster, who had barely hung on, buried his face into his left hand.

"Are you okay?" a warrior asked over the din.

"Yeah," Blaster said, face still buried in his hand, hiding the embarrassment.

_How was that?_ Sara asked.

_I think, personally, you overdid it_, Blaster said. _By a lot._ He finally removed his hand from his face and shouted to the crowd, "Everything's okay! Nothing to worry about! She's just a little excited." He then added, "And she wanted to make an entrance," under his breath as the crowd cheered.

Dwarves greatly outnumbered humans in the crowd, most of which glared at them resentfully. Some turned and walked away with fittingly stony faces. The men, on the other hand, were ready for battle as all had either daggers or knives at their waists, though some were ready for war as they wore swords and some slight armor. Women were concealing deep-abiding weariness with their proud statures. What few children and babies who were there stared at them with large eyes. Didn't take a rocket scientist to tell that they had experienced many hardships and that they would do whatever was necessary to defend themselves. They had done that by hiding in Farthen Dûr, for the walls of the massive crater were too high for dragons to fly over, and no army could break down the doors if they found them.

They all continued forward, the crowd following close behind them all, giving plenty of room. They grew silent, though they were still engrossed with Blaster. Blaster looked back to Murtagh and found him white-faced. He turned around and took in the city-mountain of Tronjheim, examining the architecture from a distance and noticing the marble was highly polished and it flowed like it was poured there and left to solidify.

The city-mountain was dotted with hundreds, thousands, possibly millions of round, elaborately carved windows, each with a colored lantern. They couldn't see turrets or smokestacks, but they were sure that there had to be some. Ahead of them were two golden griffins guarding a massive timber gate recessed into the base a good twenty yards, the golden guards themselves a good thirty feet. Supports for an arch vault could be seen.

At the base of Tronjheim, Sara paused to see if there were any further instructions from the bald man. She didn't receive any, so she continued to the gate, going by walls lined with blood-red jasper fluted pillars, a statue of odd-looking creatures between them. As they approached, the heavy gate rumbled as hidden chains slowly raised the mammoth beams. A passageway at least four-stories in height extended towards the center of Tronjheim. The top three levels had archways that revealed gray tunnels that curved off into the distance. Clumps of people crowded the arches, eagerly watching the dragon and her Rider. The ground level, however, had the archways barred by stout doors. Tapestries hung between the different levels, some depicting heroic figures, others showing tumultuous scenes of battle.

As Sara stepped into the hall, a cheer rang in their ears. Blaster raised his hand, eliciting another roar from the throng. However, he noticed that the dwarves, for the most part, didn't join in the welcoming shout. After all this traveling, Blaster didn't care, even if some turned away.

After they had gone through the mile-long hall, they walked through a black onyx archway, capped by yellow zircons at least three times larger than any normal human that allowed beams of golden light to radiate through them. Sara walked through the archway and seemingly gasped. When Blaster finally came in, they knew why. The room they entered was round, and at least a thousand feet from one end to the other. It rose and narrowed as it pointed to the peak. Arches lined the walls, one row for each level, and the floor looked to be made of polished carnelian, upon which was engraved a hammer surrounded by twelve silver pentacles, similar to Orik's helm.

This large room was what appeared to be a nexus of four hallways that included the one they had come down to divide Tronjheim into quarters. All the halls were identical except the one directly in front of them. To the right and left of that hall were tall arches that showed mirrored, descending stairs. Above them, was probably the most interesting thing they had seen: a monstrous dawn-red star sapphire.

It was at least twenty yards across, and nearly as thick, but it wasn't a smooth gem. Instead, on the face of the jewel, a rose in full bloom had been carved on it with such precision and craftsmanship, Blaster thought for a moment it was a real flower. It was surrounded by a wide belt of lanterns, casting striated bands of light over everything below. The star within the gem looked to be an eye gazing at them from above with the flashing rays.

The whole thing was a testament to the power and the perseverance the dwarves had. Not even Blaster's old home of Torillia would have been able to match the perfect balance of wealth and grandeur displayed before them. What made Blaster even more astonished was the fact that the whole thing had been built by mortal beings; another testament to the dwarves.

"You must continue from here on foot," the bald man said, much to the crowd's displeasure. A dwarf took Tornac and Phillip away. Blaster dismounted, but stayed close to Sara's side as the bald man led them down the right-hand hallway. They followed, entering a smaller corridor after a several hundred feet. Despite the cramped space, the guards remained. Four sharp turns later, they came to a large cedar door, black with age. The bald man conducted everyone inside except the guards.

* * *

><p><strong>Now that Blaster's been shown off, what is next? Will the girls recover quickly? And why do I have problems with keeping a schedule? Find the answers to these and more next time in <em>Free Riders.<em> Except the last question...that's not really important. _Free Riders_, updating Tuesdays and Fridays.**


	41. Ch40: Leader of Varden: Exposition Fairy

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 40: Leader of the Varden: Exposition Fairy

They entered an elegant, two-story study paneled with rows and rows of cedar bookshelves. A staircase of wrought-iron wound up to a small balcony complete with a reading table and two chairs. Lanterns hung along the walls and ceiling, allowing white light to fall on the pages of an open book for reading anywhere in the study. At the far end of the room, a man stood behind a large, walnut desk.

The man's skin was dark, the color of ebony that had been oiled. He was bald, but he had a closely trimmed black beard on his chin and upper lip. He had grave, yet intelligent eyes, and strong features shadowed his face. He had broad and powerful shoulders, which were emphasized by a tapered red vest embroidered with golden thread clasped over a rich purple shirt. He held himself with great dignity, yet he still had an intense, commanding air around him. And his voice was strong and confident when he spoke.

"Welcome to Tronjheim, Blaster, Murtagh, and Saranya," The man said. "I am Ajihad. Please, take a seat."

Blaster and Murtagh slipped into armchairs. Saphira and Eragon walked to the door and took their seats. Saphira and Sara settled behind their Riders like mothers. Ajihad raised his hands and snapped his fingers. A bald man exactly identical to the one they had walked with emerged from behind the staircase. The two stood together. Murtagh and Blaster stiffened. "Your confusion is understandable; they are twin brothers," Ajihad said with a slight smile. "I would tell you their names, but they have none."

Saphira and Sara hissed in distaste. Ajihad watched them for a moment, then sat in a high-backed chair that sat behind the desk. The Twins retreated under the stairs, standing beside each other impassively. Eragon fidgeted slightly as Ajihad stared at him, Murtagh, and Blaster. After several minutes, Ajihad beckoned to the Twins. One of them hurried over and allowed Ajihad to whisper in his ear. The bald man suddenly paled and he shook his head vigorously. Ajihad frowned, then nodded, as if he had just received confirmation of something.

"You've put me in a difficult position by refusing to be examined," Ajihad said to Murtagh. "The only reasons you are here now is because the Twins assured me that they can control you and because of your actions on behalf of Eragon, Blaster, Char, and Arya. I understand that there may be things you wish to keep hidden in your mind, but as long as you refuse to be examined, we cannot trust you."

"Brom has, but apparently these guys failed to tell you that," Murtagh said, a note of defiance in his voice. Ajihad's face darkened and his eyes flashed.

"It's been nearly twenty-three years since that voice fell upon my ears," Ajihad said ominously, his chest swelling. "However, it came from another man, though one more beast than human. Stand up!" Murtagh stood, eyes darting between the Twins and Ajihad. "Remove your shirt." Murtagh removed his tunic with a shrug. "Now, turn around." As he slowly turned, the light fell upon the scar on his back. "Ah, Murtagh!" He nodded. "You're welcome to stay if what you say is true. But how do we know the truth?"

"I saw Brom do it," Blaster said. "Even I saw into his mind and found no worthy cause to have him seen as a criminal. Vel eïnradhin iet ai Shur'tugal, thornessa er du ilumëo."

"He lies," one of the Twins said.

"No one lies in the ancient language," Eragon protested. "You of all people should know that. Elves do not lie, but they do withhold some of the truth if they don't deem it necessary. It does have limitations, you know."

"Then why didn't you let them in?" Ajihad demanded. He held up a hand, stopping their explainations. "We will discuss this later." He turned to Murtagh. "First I must handle this matter. Do you wish to stay?"

"Not really," Murtagh said sharply as he put his tunic back on. "And I won't let anyone else in my head."

Ajihad leaned on his desk. "You do know that, should I grant your asylum, humans and dwarves would rip you to shreads if they learned you are here. Not only that, Hrothgar, the dwarf king, might demand custody over you after what your father did, which is, to say the least, grossly unfair."

Murtagh shook his head. "I am aware. All I wish to do is leave. If you allow me to do so peacefully, I'll never reveal your location to the Empire. You can confer with Blaster, but I have sworn never to deceive nor harm any of the Varden in the Ancient Language."

"_He speaks the truth,_" Eragon said. He spoke in the Ancient Language, but Blaster heard it in English, which meant that his wrist computer was attempting to filter the Ancient Language into a language he could understand. TARDIS Translator, this was not, but it was close enough.

"What if you are captured and brought before Galbatorix?" Ajihad asked. "He will extract every secret from your mind, no matter how strong you may be. Even if you were able to resist him, how can we trust that you won't rejoin him in the future? I cannot take that chance."

"Do you intend to hold me here forever?" Murtagh demanded.

"I have a counter offer," Ajihad replied. "The Twins or Brom will remove all knowledge of Farthen Dûr's location from your mind before you leave. We won't risk someone with those memories falling into Galbatorix's hands. So, what'll it be, Murtagh? And choose quickly, or your decision will be chosen for you."

_Just get it over with_, Blaster thought. He waited as Murtagh chose. When he had chosen, his words were slow and distinct.

"Confer with Brom," Murtagh said. "I do wish to leave, but I would like to spend some days here resting. Place guards at my door for my protection as much as theirs, but keep in mind that, as soon as I am rested enough, I will leave."

Ajihad's eyes flashed with admiration. "I'm not surprised, but I had hoped you would have chosen another option. Guards!" The cedar door opened and warriors rushed in, weapons ready. Ajihad merely pointed to Murtagh. "Take him to a windowless room. I want six men posted at the entrance and allow no one inside until I see him. Don't speak to him either. I have some things to discuss with him."

Eragon looked on as the warriors escorted Murtagh out of the room. The footsteps soon faded into silence.

"Alright, I want everyone out of this room except Eragon, Saphira, Blaster, and Saranya," Ajihad said. The Twins bowed and departed.

Orik stayed behind for a moment. "Sir, the king will want to know of Murtagh, if Brom hasn't told him yet. And there is still the matter of my insubordination…"

Ajihad frowned, then waved his hand. "I will tell Hrothgar myself, if Brom hasn't beaten me to it, as you have said. As for your actions…wait outside until I call for you. And don't let the Twins get away. I'm definately not done with them, either."

"Very well," Orik said, inclining his head. He closed the door with a soft thump.

After a long silence, Ajihad sat with a tired sigh as he ran a hand over his face, staring at the ceiling. Eragon, impatiently waiting for the man to speak, finally blurted out, "Is Arya all right?"

Ajihad lowered his gaze. "No," he said gravely. "Nor is Charlotte, Blaster. However, the healers tell me they will recover. They worked all night, and the poison took a dreadful toll on them. To be honest, if it weren't for you, they wouldn't have survived. For that, you have the Varden's deepest thanks."

"It was nothing," Blaster said. Eragon slumped into his chair with relief that Blaster and Murtagh's flight from Gil'ead was worth the effort.

"So, what now?" Eragon asked.

"I need you to tell me how you two found Saphira and Sara and what happened since," Ajihad said, forming a steeple with his fingers. "I know some of the story from the message Brom sent us, other parts from the Twins. However, I want to hear the unabridged version from you, especially the details concerning what happened after Dras-Leona."

Eragon was nervous, reluctant to share such information with a stranger. However, Blaster was the one who began, starting on his fake story of how he was traveling in the woods when he encountered Eragon and the eggs. Eragon started in, nervous at first, but he began to fill in the cracks Blaster couldn't fill in his story concerning himself.

They talked for hours, explaining what happened in Teirm, but omitted the fortunetelling, and how they found the Ra'zac. Eragon even related his dreams about Arya to the story. When Blaster came to Gil'ead and mentioned the Shade, Ajihad's face hardened, and he leaned back in his chair.

As soon as they were done storytelling, everyone fell silent. Ajihad stood, clasped his hands behind his back, and absentmindedly stared at one of the many bookshelves. After several minutes, he returned to the desk.

"So, what can you expect us to accomplish?" Eragon asked.

"I will explain it in full," Ajihad said, "but there are more urgent matters to tend to first. The news of the Urgals' alliance with the Empire is extremely serious. If Galbatorix is gathering an Urgal army to destroy us, the Varden will be hard-pressed to survive, even though many of us are protected here in Farthen Dûr. That a Rider, even one as evil as Galbatorix himself, would even consider a pact with such monsters is indeed proof of madness. I shudder to think of what he has promised in return for their fickle loyalty. Then there is the Shade. Could you describe him?"

"Tall, thin, pale skin, red eyes and hair, black clothes, and wicked strong," Blaster said. "Had a fascination with my name for some reason or another."

"Did either of you manage to get a good look at his sword?" Ajihad asked intensely. "Did it have a long scratch on the blade?"

"Yes it did," Blaster said. "How did you know?"

"I was the one who put it there trying to cut out his heart," Ajihad said, a grim smile on his face. "His name's Durza—one of the most vicious and cunning fiends to ever roam these lands. He's the perfect servant for Galbatorix and a dangerous enemy to us. You say that he was killed. How was that done exactly?"

"I got him in the shoulder with a small piece of metal," Blaster said, being vague about what a bullet was, "then Murtagh caught him with an arrow between his eyes."

"I was afraid of that," Ajihad said with a frown. "He hasn't been killed. Shades can only be destroyed by piercing his heart. Anything short of that would cause him to vanish and then reappear elsewhere in spirit form. It's an unpleasant process, but Durza will return, stronger than ever."

Silence settled over them like a blanket. Blaster then uttered a few choice curse words under his breath and started kicking himself for not knowing the whole story about Shades. A few moments later, Ajihad said, "You two are quite an enigma, Eragon and Blaster. You are a quandary no one knows how to solve. Everyone knows what the Varden wants, or the Urgals, or even Galbatorix, but no one knows what you want. And that makes the two of you dangerous, especially to Galbatorix. He fears you for he doesn't know what you'll do next."

"Unpredictable," Blaster muttered. "I like it."

"But, do the Varden fear us?" Eragon asked quietly.

"No," Ajihad replied. "We are hopeful. However, if that hope proves false, then yes, we will be afraid." Eragon looked down. "You must understand the unnatural nature of your position. There are factions who want you to serve their interests and no one else's. From the moment the two of you entered Farthen Dûr, their influence and power began tugging on you."

"Including yours?" Blaster questioned.

Ajihad chuckled, though his eyes stayed sharp. "Yes, including mine. There are certain things you should know, the first of which is how Saphira's and Saranya's eggs managed to appear in the Spine. Did Brom ever tell you about what happened with the eggs after he brought them here?"

"Yeah, he did," Eragon said, glancing at Saphira. She merely blinked and flicked her tongue at him. "Well, for me at least, though how they ended up in the Spine was an assumption rather than a detailed explaination." Ajihad tapped his desk before he began.

Ajihad told them how Brom brought the eggs to the Varden, and how they were all interested because they thought the dragons were exterminated. Only the dwarves had an issue as they wanted the next Riders to be an ally, though some preferred not to have new Riders at all, especially since Riders were usually either human or elven, never dwarf. The elves were likewise cautious after what happened with Galbatorix, so they didn't want human Riders with similar instabilities. After constant bickering, Ajihad explained, Brom managed to propose that the eggs be transported between the Varden and the elves every year. The hope was that Brom would teach whomever would be their Riders with the Varden for a year, then the new Riders would be sent to the elves to finish their education.

Ajihad continued to explain the difficulties with that issue. The elves liked the idea, of course, but only if they were free to educate the new Riders if Brom were to die before the eggs hatched. For over a decade, the eggs failed to hatch. A few months before the eggs appeared in the Spine, however, Ajihad began mentioning something peculiar.

"The silver egg, that is, Sara's" Ajihad said, "started glowing while it was being transported from the elves to the Varden. Even though they were heavily guarded, there was one major problem in the months before the transfer: the silver egg vanished. Somehow, none of our wizards could identify what had happened to it. Those last few months were tense, and we thought the worst: that Galbatorix had somehow managed to secretly get the eggs out of our protection.

"We then suffered a terrible loss late last year. Arya and the remaining egg disappeared on her return from Tronjheim to the elven city of Osilon. The elves were naturally the first to discover her missing. Her guards and steed were slain in Du Weldenvarden near a group of slaughtered Urgals. Another thing they found were footprints that appeared out of nowhere, and no one has an explanation to that. However, neither Arya nor the egg was there. When I heard this news, I feared the Urgals had both of them and Farthen Dûr would be in danger, as well as that of Ellesméra, the elves' capital city where their queen, Islanzadí, lives. I now understand that they were working for the Empire, which is far worse than I had anticipated.

"We won't know the nature of the attack and the exact details of it until Arya wakes up, but I have a few hypothesis based on what you have said." He leaned against his desk. "The most important hypothesis is this: the attack was quick and decisive, or else Arya would have been able to flee. Because she was deprived of a place to hide, she did the only thing she could have done: transported the egg via magic."

"She can use magic?" Eragon asked. Blaster dope-slapped him.

"It's one of the reasons why she was chosen to guard the eggs. Anyway, Arya was unable to return it to us, because we was too far away, and the elves protect their realm from anything entering their borders through magical means. She must have thought of Brom and tried to send it to him. However, because she didn't have time to prepare, I'm not surprised she missed by such a large margin. The Twins tell me it's an imprecise art. At the same time, whomever had possession of the silver egg somehow managed to transport it to the exact same place at the exact same time the remaining egg landed in the Spine. How that happened, and who sent it, we have no idea."

"So wait," Eragon said. "Why was she closer to Palancar Valley than the Varden? Where do the elves live? And where is this…Ellesméra?"

Ajihad stared at Eragon, then at Blaster for the next few minutes, considering the question. Finally, he said, "I don't tell you this lightly, for the elves guard such knowledge jealously. But, you should both know, and I do this as a display of trust. Their cities lie far to the north, deep within the endless forest of Du Weldenvarden. Not since the time of the Riders has anyone, dwarf or human, been elf-friend enough to walk their leafy halls. Not even I can tell you how to get to Ellesméra. However, based on where the battle took place, I suspect Osilon is near the western edge of Du Weldenvarden. Now, I know you probably have further questions, but please keep them until I have finished."

"That's Eragon for ya," Blaster said. "One endless book of questions."

"Anyway," Ajihad continued, "when Arya disappeared, the elves withdrew their support from the Varden. Queen Islanzadí was especially enraged and has severed communications with us. They are still oblivious to your existence, as well as that of your dragons. Without their support to help sustain my troops, we have fared badly these past few months in skirmishes against the Empire.

"I do, however, expect the queen's hostilities to subside, thanks to your arrival and your rescue of Arya. That rescue will make a strong case with her. However, your training will present a problem with both us and the elves. We don't know how much Brom taught you yet, so you'll both have to be tested to determine the extent of your abilities. Likewise, the elves will want to have you finish your educations with them, as it has nearly been a year, but I'm not sure we have enough time for that."

"And why not?" Blaster asked.

"Several reasons," Ajihad said. "First and foremost of which are the tidings of the Urgals."

* * *

><p><strong>What are the tidings of the Urgals? What will happen to Murtagh? When will Ajihad stop with all the exposition? Tune in next Tuesday for another butter-churning chapter of <em>Free Riders<em>. Now back on schedule.**


	42. Ch41: 'Dem's Fightin' Words

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit. Also, apologies for the week-long hiatus. I had technical difficulties (My Power Supply failed on my desktop).

Chapter 41: 'Dem's Fightin' Words

"The Varden are in an extremely delicate position," Ajihad said, his gaze occasionally hovering over to Sara or Saphira. "On the one hand, we must comply with the wishes of the elves if we want to keep them as allies. On the other hand, we cannot anger the dwarves if we wish to remain lodging in Tronjheim."

"Aren't the dwarves a part of the Varden?" Eragon asked.

"In a sense, yes," Ajihad said. "They do allow us to live here and they provide assistance in our struggle against the Empire, but they are only loyal to their king. I have no power over them except for what Hrothgar gives me, and he has his troubles with the dwarf clans. There are thirteen in all, subservient to Hrothgar, but each clan chief wields enormous power. They choose the new dwarf king when the old one passes. Hrothgar is sympathetic to our cause, but many of the chiefs are not. He can't afford to anger them unnecessarily or else he'll lose the support of his people, so his actions on our behalf have been severely circumscribed."

"About these clan chiefs," Blaster said, "are they against us as well?"

"Even more so, I'm afraid," Ajihad replied. "There has long been enmity between the dragons and the dwarves. Before the elves came and made peace with the dragons, those dragons made it a habit of eating dwarven flocks and stealing their gold. Dwarves are slow to forget past wrongs. They never fully accepted the Riders, nor allowed them to police their kingdom. With Galbatorix's rise to power, he had only served to convince many dwarves to never deal with Riders or dragons again."

Eragon thought for a moment. "Speaking of, why doesn't Galbatorix know where Farthen Dûr and Ellesméra are? He's surely been told of them when he was being taught by the Riders."

"Told of them, yes," Ajihad said. "Shown where they are, no. It's one thing to know Farthen Dûr lies within these mountains, but it's another to find it. Galbatorix was never taken to either place before his dragon was killed, and the Riders didn't trust him with that knowledge after that. He tried to force the information out of several Riders during his rebellion, but they chose to die rather than reveal their locations to him. As for the dwarves, he's never been able to capture one alive, though it's only a matter of time."

"Then why doesn't he just take his troops and march them through Du Weldenvarden until he finds Ellesméra?" Blaster asked.

"Because the elves still have the power to resist him," Ajihad said. "He doesn't dare test his power against theirs, at least not at the moment. But, as the years tick by, his cursed sorcery grows stronger. If he were to have another Rider at his side, he would be unstoppable. He keeps trying to get one of his remaining two eggs to hatch, but has been unsuccessful thus far."

"How can his power be increasing?" Eragon asked, puzzled. "The strength of his body limits his abilities. He can't keep building it up forever."

"We don't know," Ajihad said, shrugging, "and neither do the elves. We can only hope that someday he will kill himself with his own spells." He reached into his vest and pulled out a battered piece of parchment. "Do you know what this is?" he asked, placing it on the desk.

Both Eragon and Blaster leaned forward to examine it. It was an alien language scrawled in black, with large sections destroyed by blots of blood. One edge of the parchment was charred. Eragon shook his head, but Blaster had an idea. "It's either a love-letter, or orders," the alien said.

"You would be correct on the second," Ajihad said. "It was taken from the leader of the Urgal host we destroyed last night. Cost us six men to do so. They sacrificed themselves so that you could escape safely. The writing you see here is the king's invention, a script he uses to communicate with his servants. Took a while to decipher, but I was able to devise its meaning where it's legible." He cleared his throat and read.

"…_gatekeeper at Ithrö Zhâda is to let this bearer and his minions pass. They are to be bunked with others of their kind and by…but only if the two factions refrain from fighting. Command will be given under Tarok, under Gashz, under Durza, under Ushnark the Mighty._

"Urshank is Galbatorix. It means 'father in the Urgal tongue, an affection that pleases him.

_Find what they are suitable for and…The footmen and…are to be kept separate. No weapons are to be distributed until…for marching._

"Nothing else can be read after that except for a few vague words."

"Where is Ithrö Zhâda?" Eragon asked. "I've never heard of it."

"Nor have I," Ajihad confirmed, "which makes me suspect Galbatorix has renamed existing places for his own purposes. After deciphering this, I asked myself what hundreds of Urgals were doing by the Beor Mountains where you first saw them and where they were going. The orders mention 'others of their kind,' so I'm assuming there are even more Urgals at their destination. I can only think of one reason for the king to gather such a force: to forge a bastard army of humans and monsters to destroy us.

"For now, there is nothing to do but to watch and wait. Without further info, we can't find this Ithrö Zhâda. Farthen Dûr is still safe, as the only Urgals who have seen it died last night."

"How did you know we were coming?" Blaster asked. "One of the Twins was waiting for us, and there was an ambush in place for the Kull." Both Saphira and Sara were listening intently, but kept their thoughts to themselves at the moment.

"We have sentinels placed at the entrance to the valley you traveled through, one on either side of the Beartooth River," Ajihad said. "They sent a dove to warn us."

Blaster's stomach did a flip-flop as he realized that the dove that Sara tried to eat was the one that told of their coming.

"When the eggs disappeared and Arya disappeared," Eragon said, "did you tell Brom? He said he had heard nothing from the Varden."

"We tried to alert him, but I suspect our men were intercepted and killed by the Empire," Ajihad said. "Why else would the Ra'zac have gone to Carvahall? After that, Brom was traveling with you, so it was impossible to get word to him. I was relieved when he contacted me via messenger from Teirm. Didn't surprise me one bit that he went to Jeod as they were old friends. Jeod could easily send us a message because he smuggles supplies to us through Surda.

"However, this has raised serious questions. How did the Empire know where to ambush Arya and, later, our messengers to Carvahall? How has Galbatorix learned which merchants help the Varden? Jeod's business has been virtually destroyed since you left him, as have those of other merchants who support us. Every time one of their ships sets sail, it disappears. The dwarves cannot give us everything we need, so the Varden are in desperate need of supplies. I'm afraid we have a traitor or traitors in our midst, despite our efforts to examine people's minds for deceit."

"Have the Twins been checked?" Blaster asked.

"Yes, why?" Ajihad said.

"Well, I checked one of them as Brom checked me, and he has a foggy past, and I don't like that," Blaster said. "What's worse is that one of the clearer things I got was that they were in Galbatorix's court and shaking hands with him. I would advise disposing of them as soon as possible."

There was a long pause while everyone thought. Finally, Eragon said, "What do you want from us?"

"How do you mean?" Ajihad asked.

"I mean, what is expected of us in Tronjheim?" Eragon said. "You and the elves have plans for us, but what if we don't like them? I'll fight when needed, revel on occasion, mourn when there is grief, and die if my time comes. I'm sure Blaster will feel the same way. But I won't let anyone use me or Blaster against our will." He paused. "The Riders of old were arbiters of justice above and beyond the leaders of their time. I don't claim that position, and nor does Blaster. I doubt people would accept such oversight when they've been free of it all their lives, especially from one as young as both myself and Blaster. But we _do_ have power, and we will wield it as we see fit. What I want to know is how _you_ plan to use us. Then we'll decide whether to agree to it."

Ahihad looked at Eragon wryly. "If you were any one else and before another leader, you would have likely been killed for that speech. What makes you think I will expose my plans because you demand it?" Eragon flushed, but didn't lower his gaze. "However, you are right. The position both of you hold gives you the privilege to say such things. Neither of you can escape the politics of your situation. You _will_ be influenced, one way or another. I don't want to see you become pawns to any one group or purpose any more than you do. You must retain your freedoms, for it lies in your true power: the ability to make choices independent of any leader or king. My own authority over you will be limited, but I believe it's for the best. The difficulty lies in making sure that those with power include you in their deliberations.

"Also, despite your protests, the people here have certain…expectations of you. They'll bring you their problems, no matter how petty, and demand you solve them." Ajihad's voice became deadly serious. "There will be cases where someone's future will rest in your hands. With not but a single word, you could send them careening into happiness or misery. Young women will seek your opinion as to whom they should marry: many will pursue you as a husband."

"Good luck with that," Blaster said. "Char and I are due to be married eventually. Just need to set a date."

"Still, at least you are warned," Ajihad said. "Also, old men will ask which of their children should receive an inheritance. You _must _be kind and wise with all of them, for they put their trust in you. Don't speak flippantly or without thought, because your words will have an impact far beyond what you intend." He paused. "The burden of leadership is being responsible for the well-being of the people you're in charge of. I have dealt with it from the day I was chosen to lead the Varden, and now you must as well. Be careful. I won't tolerate injustice under my command. And do not worry about your youth and inexperience; they will pass soon enough."

"You still haven't said what I'm to do here," Eragon said, nervous.

"For now, nothing," Ajihad said. "Blaster, you've covered over a hundred and thirty leagues in eight days."

"Almost four-hundred miles?" Blaster asked. "Wow. There's a feat to be proud of."

"Indeed," Ajihad said. "Because of that, I expect you to rest. Once you are recovered, we will test your competency in arms and magic. After that, I will explain your options, and you'll have the chance to decide your next course of action."

"What about Murtagh?" Eragon asked.

Ajihad's face darkened. He reached under his desk and lifted up Zar'roc, which glinted in the light. Ajihad slid his hand over it, lingering on the etched sigil. "He will stay here until he is rested and Brom clears his mind."

"You can't imprison him," Eragon argued. "He's committed no crime!"

"We can't allow him to walk free without being sure that he won't get killed by one of us," Ajihad said. "Innocent or not, he's potentially as dangerous to us as his father was, and more people other than me will take action."

"How were you able to recognize his voice, by the way?" Blaster asked.

"I met his father once," Ajihad said shortly. He tapped Zar'roc's hilt. "I wish Brom had told me he'd taken Morzan's sword. I would suggest that you don't carry it within Farthen Dûr. Many here remember Morzan's time with hate, especially the dwarves."

"I'll remember that," Eragon said. Ajihad handed over Zar'roc to Eragon. From underneath the desk, Ajihad also brought up Cratona, two pistols, a revolver, and Blaster's shotgun, handing them back to their owner.

"Oh, one more thing," Ajihad said. "I have Brom's ring, which he sent as confirmation of his identity. I was keeping it for when he returned to Tronjheim. Would you give it to him, next time you have the chance." He pulled the ring out of a drawer in his desk.

"You take it, Eragon," Blaster said. "You'd know where he is."

Eragon accepted it. The symbol on the sapphire face was identical to the tattoo on Arya's shoulder. He put the ring on his index finger, admiring how the jewel caught the light. "I…I'm honored," he finally said.

Ajihad nodded, then stood. He faced the two dragons and spoke to them with power swelling in his voice. "Do not think I have forgotten about you, O mighty dragons. I have said these things as much for your benefit as for Eragon's and Blastbone's. It's even more important that you know them, for it fall to you to guard them in these dangerous times. Don't ever underestimate your might nor falter by their side, for they will surely fail without you." The two dragons moved their heads up close, each staring at him with examining eyes. After a few moments, Ajihad lowered his eyes and said softly, "It is indeed a privilege and an honor to meet you both."

_He'll do_, Saphira said respectfully.

_Would you tell him that I am impressed with both Tronjheim and with him?_ Sara said. _The Empire is right to fear him. Also, let him know that if he had decided to kill you, I would have destroyed Tronjheim and torn him apart with my teeth._

Eragon spoke the same thing, as Saphira had said the same thing to him. Blaster added a "Ditto for Sara," at the end. Ajihad looked at both of them seriously. "I would expect nothing less from ones so noble, but I doubt you could have gotten past the Twins."

_Pah!_ Sara snorted.

"Well, then I guess they must be stronger than they appear," Blaster said. "However, I think they'd be severely underclassed if ever faced with a dragon's wrath. The two of them might be able to defeat me or Eragon, but never Saphira or Sara. It is my belief that, in the absence of the Riders, the Twins have significantly overestimated their power, even if they were in Galbatorix's court. Especially since a dragon augments their Rider's magic beyond that of a normal magician. That's probably why Brom was always weaker than myself or Eragon."

"Wait, how did you know Brom was a Rider?" Eragon asked.

"He made me promise not to inform you that he was a Rider while you were out after the attack on your farm," Blaster said.

"Brom is considered one of our strongest spell weavers," Ajihad said, looking troubled. "Only the elves surpass him. If what you say is true, then we'll have to reconsider many things." He bowed to Saphira and Sara. "As it is, I'm glad it wasn't necessary to harm any of you." The two dragons dipped their heads.

"Orik!" Ajihad shouted, straightening. The dwarf hurried into the room and stood before the desk, crossing his arms. Ajihad scowled, obviously irritated. "You've caused me some serious trouble, Orik. I've had to listen to one of the Twins complaining all morning about your insubordination. They won't let it rest until you are punished, and, unfortunately, they're right. It's such a serious matter that it cannot be ignored. Tell me what happened."

Orik's eyes flicked towards Eragon, but he held no emotion. He spoke quickly and in rough tones. "The Kull were almost around Kóstha-mérna. They were shooting arrows at the dragon, Blastbone, and Murtagh, but the Twins did nothing to stop it. Like…sheilven, they refused to open the gates even though we could see Blastbone shouting the opening phrase. Sure, we were relieved when Blastbone whipped out his death-stick, but they still refused to take action. Perhaps it was wrong, but I couldn't let a Rider die, and nor did Brom."

Ajihad glanced at Eragon, then asked Orik seriously, "And later, why did you oppose them?"

"It wasn't right for them to force their way into Murtagh's mind," Orik said, chin raised defiantly. "But I wouldn't have stopped them if I'd known who he was."

"No, you did the right thing," Ajihad said, "though it would be much simpler if you hadn't. It isn't our place to force our way into people's minds, no matter who they are." Ajihad fingered his beard. "Your actions were honorable, but you did defy a direct order from your commander. The penalty for that has always been death." Orik's back stiffened.

"Wait," Blaster objected. "You can't kill him for that. He was helping. I believe the situation mitigates the punishment, if only slightly."

"It isn't your place to interfere," Ajihad said sternly. "Orik broke the law and must suffer the consequences." Blaster and Eragon were both about to protest again, but Ajihad raised a hand for silence. "However, you are right. The sentence will be mitigated because of the circumstances. Orik, as of now, you are removed from active service and forbidden to engage in any military activities under my command pending further investigation. Do you understand?"

Orik's face darkened, but he only looked confused. He nodded and said, "Yes."

"Furthermore," Ajihad continued, "in the absence of your regular duties, I appoint you as Eragon, Blastbone, Saphira, and Sara's guide for the duration of their stay. You are to make sure they receive every comfort and amenity we have to offer. Saphira and Sara will stay above Isidar Mithrim. Eragon and Blaster may have quarters wherever they want. When they've recovered from their trip, take them to the training fields. They'll be expecting them." Blaster could swear that there was a twinkle of amusement in Ajihad's eyes.

"I understand," Orik said, bowing low.

"Very well, you all may go," Ajihad said. "Send in the Twins as you leave, but call for Brom to be here just in case."

"Sir," Blaster said, "if you don't mind my asking, where might I find Char? I would like to see her."

"And where might I find Arya?" Eragon asked.

"No one is allowed to visit them as of yet," Ajihad said. "You'll have to wait until they come to you." He looked down at his desk in clear dismissal.

* * *

><p><strong>When will the two men finally get to see the two women Blaster saved? What does the training entail? Will the Urgals attack? If you've read the book, you may already know, but, for now, stay tuned for the next chapter of <em>Free Riders<em>. Tuesdays and Fridays, only on .**


	43. Ch42: History Lesson (AKA Filler)

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit. Apologies for not updating last Friday. Normal updating schedule under way.

Chapter 42: History Lesson (AKA Filler)

Eragon and Blaster stretched in the hallway, reliving the stiff muscles they had gotten from sitting so long. The Twins entered the study, closing the door behind them. Eragon looked to Orik and said, "I'm sorry you're in trouble because of me."

"Don't bother yourself," Orik grunted, tugging at his beard. "Ajihad gave me what I wanted."

Even Saphira and Sara were surprised by the statement. "How do you mean?" Eragon asked. "You cannot train or fight, and you are stuck guiding us. How can that be what you wanted?"

Orik eyed Eragon. "Ajihad is a good leader," he said. "He understands how to keep the law yet remain just. Under his command, I have been punished, but I am also a subject of Hrothgar. Under his rule, I'm still free to do what I wish."

Blaster remembered the split power within Tronjheim. He smiled and said, "Ajihad has placed you in a pretty powerful position."

"That he did," Orik chuckled, "and in such a way that the Twins can't complain about it. This will irritate them for sure. Ajihad is a tricky one."

"So I've noticed," Blaster said.

"Come," Orik said, "I'm sure you're hungry. And we have to get your dragons settled in."

Saphira and Sara hissed. "They do have names," Eragon said. "The blue one is Saphira, and the silver one is called Saranya."

"You may call her Sara, for short," Blaster added. Orik bowed.

"My humblest apologies," the dwarf said. "I'll be sure to remember them." He grabbed an orange lantern from the wall and led them down the hallway.

"Are there others in Farthen Dûr who can use magic?" Eragon asked. He struggled to keep up with the dwarf's quick pace, cradling Zar'roc so that the symbol on the sheath was hidden.

"Only a few," Orik said with a shrug. "The ones that we do have can't do much more than heal bruises. They've all had to tend to Arya and Charlotte because of the strength needed to heal them."

"Everyone but the Twins?" Blaster asked.

"Oeí," Orik grunted. "Arya wouldn't want their help anyway, and I doubt your friend Charlotte would either. No, their arts aren't for healing. Their talents lie in scheming and plotting for power, much to everyone else's detriment. Deynor, Ajihad's predecessor, allowed them to join the Varden because he needed their support. You can't oppose the Empire without spellcasters who can hold their own on the field of battle. Yes, they are a nasty pair, but they do have their uses."

"Oh, they're nasty, alright," Blaster muttered.

They entered one of the four main tunnels that split Tronjheim into quarters. Clusters of dwarves and humans strolled through it, voices echoing loudly off the polished floor. Those conversations stopped abruptly when Saphira and Sara entered; dozens of eyes were fixed on them. Orik ignored the spectators and turned left, heading toward one of Tronjehim's distant gates. "Where are we going?" Eragon asked.

"Out of these halls so Saphira and Sara can fly to the dragonhold above Isidar Mithrim, the Star Rose. The dragonhold doesn't have a roof—Tronjheim's peak is open to the sky, like that of Farthen Dûr—so they, that is, you two, Saphira and Sara, will be able to glide straight down into the hold. It is where the Riders used to stay when they visited Tronjheim."

"Won't it be cold and damp without a roof?" Eragon asked.

"Nay," Orik said, shaking his head. "Farthen Dûr protects us from the elements. Neither rain nor snow intrude here. Besides, the walls of the hold are lined with marble caves for dragons, which should provide the necessary shelter. Just beware of the icicles; they've been known to cleave a horse in half when they fall."

_I'm sure we'll be fine,_ Sara said to Blaster. _A marble cave is safer than any other place we've stayed thus far._

_ Perhaps_, Blaster replied. He then thought about the beginning of Ajihad's meeting. _I want your opinion on something: Do you think that Murtagh will be all right after his meeting with Ajihad?_

_Ajihad strikes me as an honorable man_, Sara replied. _Unless Murtagh does something stupid, like try to escape, he'll be just fine._

Eragon crossed his arms, seemingly dazed. Finally, he asked where the horses were, and was told that they would visit them on their way out of Tronjheim in the stables.

After visiting the horses—and grabbing the last of his weaponry from his for Blaster—they exited Tronjheim the same way they had entered. The sun had moved during their meeting with Ajihad so that light no longer entered Farthen Dûr through the opening of the crater. Without that light, the inside of the mountain was velvety black, with the only light coming from Tronjheim. The light coming from the city-mountain was enough to light the ground hundreds of feet away.

Orik pointed to the peak of Tronjheim. "Fresh meat and pure mountain water await you up there," he told Saphira and Sara. "You may stay in any of the caves. Once you've made your choices, bedding will be laid down in them and then no one will disturb you."

"I thought we were going to go together," Eragon protested. "I don't want to be separated."

"Rider Eragon," Orik said, turning to him, "I will do everything to accommodate you, but it would be best if Saphira waits in the dragonhold while you eat. The tunnels to the banqet halls aren't large enough for her to accompany us."

"You could bring food to the hold, right?" Blaster asked.

"It is possible," Orik said. "However, the food is prepared down here and it is a long way to the top. If you wish, a servant could be sent up to the hold with a meal for you so you could eat with Saphira and Sara, but it would take some time to get it to you."

_Wow,_ Blaster thought. _He actually means it_. He then thought about Saphira and Sara. _You will be okay if I go eat with them, right?_ He asked Sara.

_Go,_ Sara said. _This dragonhold sounds to my liking. Once you are done, come to me. We can rest together without the fear of being attacked by wild animals or soldiers._

_ Unless the Twins come up to slit our throats_, Blaster replied. _That, however, is a very unlikely outcome. I shall eat down here, but please take most of my weapons with you._

_I will,_ Sara said. She gathered most of his supplies, as well as the saddle that he had taken off, but he kept his two holstered pistols and his bow with him. _It is wise for you to keep weapons. Yes, we should trust them, but not to the point of foolishness. And don't worry, I have told Brom that Ajihad requested him._ Blaster nodded

"I'm eating down here," Blaster said. Eragon said the same as he gave Zar'roc to Saphira.

The two blasted into the air, the steady whoosh of their flapping wings the only sound heard in the darkness. As they disappeared over the rim of Tronjheim's peak, Orik let out a long breath. "Ah, you have both been blessed. I find a sudden longing in my heart for open skies and soaring cliffs and the thrill of hunting like a hawk. Still, my feet are better on the ground, though I prefer under it." He clapped his hands. "I've been neglectful of my duties as a host. You haven't dined since that pitiful dinner the Twins saw fit to give you. Come. Let us find the cooks and beg meat and bread from them."

Though Eragon had most likely had a better meal than what Blaster had been given before they finally fell asleep, he followed Orik and Blaster back into Tronjheim, and through what appeared to be a labyrinth of corridors. They eventually reached the dining hall, which was a very long room filled with stone tables just high enough for the dwarves. Behind a long counter at the end, fires blazed in the soapstone ovens.

Orik spoke words that neither Eragon nor Blaster would be able to understand to a stout, ruddy-faced dwarf. He promptly handed over stone platters filled with steaming mushrooms and fish. Orik then led them up several flights of stairs to a small alcove carved into the side of Tronjheim's outer wall. After they sat Indian-style, as Blaster remembered it, he and Eragon dug in.

The meal was delicious, with all sorts of savory flavors to take in. It wasn't long before the plates were empty. Orik pulled out a long-stemmed pipe and lit it, reminding them of Brom. He muttered something about washing down the meal with a pint of mead.

"Can't exactly farm here in Farthen Dûr, right?" Blaster said.

"Oeí," Orik said. "There is only enough sunlight for the moss, mushrooms and mold. Tronjheim cannot survive without supplies from the valleys in the Beor Mountains, which is why many of us choose to live elsewhere."

"Then there are other Dwarven cities?" Eragon asked. Blaster groaned. This kid was always full of questions.

"Not as many as we would like," Orik said, taking a drag from his pipe. "And Tronjheim is the greatest of them. You've only seen the lower levels, so it hasn't been apparent, but most of the city is deserted. The farther up you go, the emptier it gets. We have entire floors that haven't been touched in centuries. Most dwarves prefer to dwell under Tronjheim and Farthen Dûr in the caverns and passages littering the rock. Through our extensive tunneling, it is possible to walk from one end of the Beors to the other without even setting foot on the surface."

"Well, if you have so much unused space, why not just abandon the city?" Blaster suggested.

"Some have argued to do that because of the drain on our resources, but it does perform one invaluable task."

"And what would that be?" Eragon asked.

"In times of misfortune, it can house our entire nation," Orik proclaimed. "In our history, there have only been three times when we've been forced to that extreme, but it has saved us those times from certain and utter destruction. For that reason, it is always kept garrisoned and ready to use. We must always be prepared."

"It is magnificent," Eragon said. "I don't think I've ever seen anything like it."

"I'm glad you find it so," Orik said with a smile. "It took generations to build Tronjheim, and our lives are much longer than those of men. Unfortunately, few outsiders are allowed to see its glory because of that cursed Empire."

"Well, since we know there are few dwarves here compared to how many could be here, how many humans are here?" Blaster asked.

Orik exhaled and spurt out a small puff of smoke that curled around his head. "Only about four thousand of your kin are here," he said. "But that is a poor indicator of what you want to know. Only people who wish to fight come here. The rest of them are under the protection of King Orrin of Surda."

Blaster let out a low whistle. So few had escaped, and if what Eragon and Brom said were true, the royal army alone was sixteen thousand men strong when fully marshaled. And that was ignoring the Urgals. If Galbatorix had enough soldiers to effectively close the Empire's borders, then he'd have to have hundreds of thousands of men at his disposal. _I've killed hundreds of thousands, but most have been abominations_, Blaster thought. _I've never stood before hundreds of thousands of men before now. The most was nearly a thousand._

"Why doesn't Orrin fight the Empire himself?" Eragon asked.

"That would mean openly declaring war, which would result in Galbatorix crushing him," Orik said. "As it is, Galbatorix withholds that destruction because he only considers Surda a minor threat, which is a mistake. Through Surda and Orrin's assistance, the Varden have most of their weapons and supplies. Without him, we'd be hard-pressed to resist the Empire.

"But, never fret, for even though the number of humans here in Tronjheim is few by comparison, there are many dwarves here—many more than you have seen—that will fight when the time comes. Orrin has promised troops for when we take the battle to Galbatorix, and the elves have promised their aid as well."

They were left to let that information sink in. Then, Eragon mentioned the helmet and the symbol on it, to which Orik explained that it was the symbol of his clan, Ingietum, who were metalworkers and master smiths. The same symbol was on Tronjheim's floor as it was the symbol of their founder Korgan, as well as the symbol of their political structure: one clan to rule, and twelve surrounding them. "King Hrothgar is Dûrgrimst Ingietum as well and has brought my house much glory and honor," Orik boasted.

After dinner was done, they returned the plates to the cook, but passed a dwarf in the hall that stopped before Eragon and Blaster and said, in a respectful tone, "Argetlam."

"What did he say?" Eragon asked once out of earshot.

"It's an elven word used to refer to the Riders," Orik said. "It means 'silver hand.'" Eragon and Blaster glanced at their concealed gedwëy ignasia. "Do you wish to return to your dragons?"

"I would," Blaster said, "but I'm in need of a good shower or bath. Don't worry about my clothes, for I will wash them as well."

Orik nodded, then led the two Riders to the baths through red-lit tunnels barely 5-foot tall. "So the light doesn't blind you when you enter or leave a dark cavern," Orik explained when asked about the lights. Once in the bath room, Eragon and Blaster disrobed and quickly entered the door into a room that was completely dark, though Blaster was able to barely make out the edge of the shallow pool. Using soap and brushes, the two Riders washed quickly in the warm, mildly salty water. Blaster, who had also brought in his clothes, quickly washed them with the soap.

Once they were done, they toweled off in the adjacent room and redressed; Eragon ended up donning some new clothes that fit him reasonably well and Blaster in his newly-washed and dried outfit, both of them ready to rest after the long day they had just had.

* * *

><p><strong>How long will they rest? Will the Twins, unknowingly found out by Blaster, come up to slit the Rider's throats as they sleep? Can the healers fully heal both Arya and Char? Find out next time on <em>Free Riders<em>. Updating Tuesdays and Fridays.**


	44. Ch43: You Screw Up, Big Time!

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Title reference's Carlos Mencia's skit on Japan calling Al Queida after the 2001 attack. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 43: You Screw Up, Big Time!

Orik was waiting, pipe in hand, when the two emerged from the baths. He led the two Riders up the stairs back into Tronjheim before exiting the city-mountain. As the two Riders gazed at the peak, they called for their dragons and waited for them. While they were waiting, Eragon, who had been silent, thought it was time to ask another question.

"How do you communicate with people at the top of Tronjheim?" he asked.

Orik chuckled. "A problem we solved ages ago," he replied. "Not that you would notice, but behind the open arches that line each level is a single, unbroken staircase that spirals around the wall of Tronjheim's central chamber. The stairs climb all the way to the dragonhold above Isidar Mithrim. We call it Vol Turin, The Endless Staircase. However, running up and down those stairs isn't swift enough for an emergency, nor convenient enough for casual use. Therefore, we use flashing lanterns to convey messages, though there is another way, albeit seldom used. When Vol Turin was constructed, a polished trough was cut next to it and acts like a slide as high as a mountain."

A small smile grew on Eragon's face. "Is it dangerous?"

"Don't think of trying it," Orik warned. "The slide is built for dwarves and too narrow for a man. If you slipped out of it, you could be thrown onto the stairs, against the arches, or perhaps even into empty space."

Eragon's face momentarily filled with shock, but was erased when Sara and Saphira both landed a stone's throw away, rustling their scales dryly. As they greeted their Riders, a crowd of humans and dwarves trickled out of Tronjheim, gathering around with murmurs of interest. Both Eragon and Blaster felt uneasy, but didn't voice their opinions.

"Go," Oric said, pushing Eragon forward, toward Saphira. "Meet me by this gate tomorrow morning. I'll be waiting."

"How will I know when it's morning?" Eragon asked. Blaster facepalmed.

"I have an alarm clock," he muttered, mounting Sara.

"Someone will come to wake you," Orik added. "Now go!"

Eragon slipped through the group and jumped on Saphira's back. Just before she took to the skies, or even before anyone else could react, an elderly woman stepped forward and grabbed Blaster's foot with a fierce grip. He pulled his foot out of the grip, which was deceptively strong, but put his foot back down. He looked into the woman's eyes, burning grey, surrounded by a lifetime of story-telling wrinkles. A tattered bundle rested in the crook of her left arm, and though she still had her free right hand, she did not attempt to grab Blaster's foot again, out of fear of what he just did.

"Can I help you, ma'am?" Blaster said as kindly as he could given the nature of what was going on. He could tell something was up. He looked down as the woman tilted her arm, allowing a piece of cloth to fall from the bundle, revealing the face of a baby.

"The child has no parents," the woman pleaded, hoarse and desperate. "There is no one to care for her but me, and I am weak. And I grow weaker every day in my old age. Please, bless her with your power, Argetlam. Bless her for luck!"

Blaster looked up, hoping to get some help from Eragon or Orik, but the two were merely watching on with guarded expressions. No one even bothered to visit or ask Eragon to bless their children. The crowd suddenly became silent, awaiting Blaster's response to the woman's continuing pleas. True, Blaster had never even thought about blessing anyone before, aside from that one woman's baby back on Earth just moments after it was born in the empty sewers of what was once West Charlotte, North Carolina. That was more religious than anything else. If he didn't say things in exactly the right way, especially here, a blessing could become a more of a curse, especially if spoken with ill intent or lack of conviction.

Just as Blaster was about to give up and say he was inexperienced, an idea came to him. He thought to use a true blessing, one of power. A blessing spoken in the binding, powerful, ancient language. Bending down, he took the baby in his hands, and, once he had his invocation in his head, he removed his fingerless glove from his right hand and placed his hand on the child's brow.

"Atra guliä un ilian tauthr ono un atra ono waíse skölir fra rauthr," Blaster spoke. He felt his energy drain from him, but he still felt as strong as ever, bolstered by his own inherent powers. Before everyone could say anything, he added, "Kai fertuna drah hugan lu." The energy drain from this incantation was a little more than he had anticipated, but still left him stronger than Eragon would have ever been had he been asked to bless the child. "Those words will guide her and protect her through the coming tribulations. It is the best I can give her."

"Thank you, Argetlam," the woman whispered, bowing slightly. She attempted to cover the baby again, but Sara snorted, twisted her long neck so that her head was over the child, and, while the woman was stock still in fear, lowered her head to brush her snout between the eyes of the baby. Blaster was shocked to see that, glowing on the child's forehead, was a star-shaped patch of skin, similar to the gedwëy ignasia.

As the woman looked on, both Saphira and Sara took flight for the dragonhold. The ground shrunk away as Blaster started thinking, _What did you do?_

_ I gave her hope,_ Sara replied. _You gave her a future._

_ Look at me, Sara,_ Blaster sighed. _Haven't so much as been on this world for a year and I have consulted with the leader of a rebellion, pursued by an evil I know little of, traveled with the son of a long-dead enemy, and now I am being sought for blessings? You'd think that it'd be easy for someone who is in his early 50s, but I have little experience in such matters._

_You are but a hatchling, even by your people's standards,_ Sara replied. _A hatchling struggling in a world that is not your own. I may be younger in years, but ancient in thoughts. You of all people should know is that wisdom isn't knowledge in it's purest form, but the ability to show others the way to the knowledge they may already know. No army could have given the blessing that you did._

_ That was nothing compared to the blessings of other people of my home have made,_ Blaster said.

_Nay, it wasn't. That was the beginning of another story, another legend. A child like that would never be content with being a tavern-keeper or a farmer. Especially not when she's been marked by a dragon on her brow and your words hang over her._

_I suppose you are right,_ Blaster said. _The thing I hate most is my wyrd, for I hate that my choices might not mean anything if everything I am and will be has been laid out before me._

_ And I chose you from within my egg,_ Sara said. _You have been given the chance that most would die for. You have done things that we have never seen in our wildest dreams on this planet. Do not ask questions about it, for you will never be able to find the answers._

_ Yet they bounce around my head like rubber balls. I will not be able to find happiness if I voice them. Believe me, I've tried._

Several mintues later, Eragon and Saphira descended into the hole at the top of Tronjheim that lead to the dragonhold. The floor wasn't just above the Isidar Mithrim, the star sapphire, it _was_ Isidar Mithrim. Below them was the great central chamber. Sara came in after Saphira and, on the silent wings of a glider, they dropped to and landed on Isidar Mithrim with the sharp clacking of claws.

_You guys won't scratch it, I hope_, Blaster said, worried.

_This is no ordinary gem,_ Sara assured. _It is doubtful anything but magic would break it._

Eragon and Blaster slid off their dragons, absorbing as much as they could. It was a circular room, sixty feet wide and sixty feet high, dotted with caves for dragons. Some were grottos no bigger than a man, while others were caverns large enough to fit a whole house. Shined metal rungs lined the marble walls so people could reach the highest caves, and an archway on one side led out of the dragonhold.

The two Riders looked at the giant gem at their feet, with only wavering spots of color and distorted lines glimmering through the stone. Due to the thickness of the gem, however, it was impossible to ascertain anything clearly on the floor of the chamber a mile below them.

"Ah, here you are," Brom's voice echoed. He walked up while the two were looking down through Isidar Mithrim. He walked closer. "How was your day?"

"Blaster performed a blessing," Eragon said. "There was something about it that made me feel a little uneasy about it, though."

"What did you say?" Brom asked, curious. When Blaster told him, he went straight from curious to stunned disbelief in a heartbeat. "Are you sure you used sköliro and not skölir?"

"I said skölir," Blaster said. Eragon was now looking as if Blaster had sprouted a second head. "What is it?"

"You haven't blessed her," Brom replied. "You used 'skölir' instead of 'sköliro' in your blessing, so instead of saying she will be shielded from harm, you said she would be a shield from harm."

Realization dawned on the alien's face. Calmly as he could, he asked Brom and Eragon to hide behind something.

"Why would we do that?" Eragon asked. Blaster, however, started getting angry, and the air around him was beginning to get hot. Saphira and Sara ducked their heads behind their wings as Brom forced Eragon down behind Saphira.

"FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF-"

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

Just outside of Tronjheim, many people heard a rumbling, then a jet of fire erupted from the top of the dragonhold, lighting up the immediate area like a miniature sun. The flames continued upwards a good 100 feet above the top of the dragonhold.

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

Blaster stood in the center of the dragonhold, breathing heavily and still looking angry. Flames still licked the area, but dispersed quickly as they had no fuel source. "Way to go, moron!" he shouted to himself. "You screwed up, big time! Why did you have to take care of that blessing? You've doomed her, you idiot!" He slowly began composing himself as Brom and Eragon moved from around Saphira.

"One of the Twins wants to know what the hell just happened," Brom said. "They received reports that Tronjheim is erupting."

"Tell them that I had a little bit of an issue with my magic," Blaster said. "Say I was a little too forceful with _brisingr_."

"They won't believe it, but it will quell them for now," Brom replied.

"Shol'vas!" Blaster muttered. "Will you be staying long?"

"No," Brom replied. The old Rider sighed. "Your little accusation against the Twins has stirred up Ajihad. He's requesting my opinion on the matter." He looked at the alien Rider. "You really are going to stir up the bee's nest now."

"Don't I know it," Blaster muttered. "I suppose I should try to keep quiet about it."

"Lest the Twins know you're on to them, I would say yes," Brom said. "Eragon, I will expect you to join me in the training arena tomorrow so that the Varden knows of your skills."

"Of course," Eragon said. With that, Brom said goodnight and departed, as he had somewhere else to be. It was quiet for a few moments after Brom left.

_One final question_, Blaster said as he looked around. _Will there be room for me to join you?_

_Plenty,_ Sara replied. _Would you like to come see?_

Saphira and Eragon clambered up to their medium-sized caves, though Saphira and Sara merely jumped in. Sara had taken a similar cave just to the right. The dark-brown interior was deceptively deep, carved, not smoothly like the tunnel to Farthen Dûr, but to look like it was a natural cave all along. The far wall had a cushion big enough for Sara to curl up on. Nearby was a bed carved into the wall right beside it. The only light came from a red lantern, complete with a shutter to darken the room more.

_I've heard little from you, Sara_, Blaster said to the silver dragon. _What is your opinion of Tronjheim and Ajihad?_

_I have nothing to tell you of my opinions that I haven't already said. Give it time._ Blaster sighed. _It seems, Blaster, that we are entering a new type of warfare. Swords and claws may be useless, but words and alliances may have the same effect. I especially do not trust the Twins, so we must be on guard for any…duplicities they may attempt._

_ Like to see how they explain how a Rider got his throat slashed under their watch,_ Blaster said. _Likewise, we should be on guard from the dwarves. They do not trust us, and I fear that the elves may oppose us as well, for they wanted an elven Rider, not human like the Oath-Breaker King. The problem with all this political stress is that, I do not believe we can remain autonomous, independent of the different leaders._

_ Ajihad supports our freedom,_ Sara said, curling up on her cushion and shuffling around to get comfortable. Blaster slowly sat beside her, ignoring the bed. She yawned, but added, _However, in order to survive, we may be forced to pledge our loyalty to one group or another._

_ We'll soon find out,_ Blaster said. _Good night, my friend._

_ Good night, little one,_ Sara replied. Blaster scoffed at being called little, but didn't press the matter as the two began to rest after their long, forced march from Gil'ead.

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><p><strong>Will the two Riders remain autonomous? Can Blaster convince the Twins that he wasn't using magic they will never be accustomed to? Can this story take any longer? Answer to that one is yes, but not much longer. Entering the "home strecth" as we get to the last chapters of <strong>


	45. Ch44: Double, Double, Toil and Trouble

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Title a reference to "Macbeth," a staple for witches brewing potions in cauldrons. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 44: Double, Double, Toil and Trouble

When Blaster and Eragon woke up, they were still rather warm, even though they didn't have any blankets over them. Blaster heard Sara snoring on her cushion, but didn't bother to wake her up. There was a sense of security in Farthen Dûr that Blaster only found on his ship, and that Eragon had not felt since he lived in Carvahall. The tension of traveling was slowly unknotted.

_I wonder how Murtagh is doing,_ Blaster thought. He knew that the Varden would be hospitable, but he was worried that Murtagh might be held prisoner for his father's actions. But, Blaster knew that this was one situation that didn't need to be resolved. However, Blaster would have thought that he would say goodbye before departing Farthen Dûr.

Both he and Eragon began thinking of the two girls Blaster and Murtagh had brought with them. Eragon chided himself for daydreaming, most likely about Arya, and uttered a slight yelp in surprise. He had come face to face with…Solembum.

_Solembum?_ Blaster asked after he had found out from Eragon who it was.

_Yes,_ Solembum replied. He jumped from the end of Eragon's cave, landing with a solid thump on Isidar Mithrim. _You coming or what?_

Blaster glanced at Sara, only to find that she had awoken. _Go along, I will be fine here,_ she muttered. Solembum waited as Blaster holstered his two pistols before turning out of the arch that led to the rest of Tronjheim.

No more than two seconds after the two Riders had touched the ground, Solembum turned and disappeared through the arch. Blaster and Eragon began chasing him while the latter rubbed the sleep from his eyes. On the other side of the arch, there was no choice but to go down.

At the next level there were many things to be seen, including the size of the lower floors increasing in diameter with every floor. Above them, Isidar Mithrim was sparkling brightly. The stairs continued downward into the distance and out of sight, the sliding trough on the outer curvature of the stairs. A pile of leather squares were at the top, ready for use on the long slide.

Solembum led them down a dusty corridor, flipping his tail as he padded along and ignoring Eragon's protests to slow down. He stopped at a door after going through what seemed to be a maze of passages and yowled. The door swung open to let him in, then shut once he was through. Blaster and Eragon approached the door cautiously. Eragon went to knock on the door when it opened up again, spilling a warm glow. The two shrugged and walked in.

Inside were numerous hanging lanterns, various objects cluttering the floor so that the corners were completely obscured, and a variety of plant life. There was also a four-poster bed in the far room. Sitting on the only, plush leather chair was Angela.

"What are you doing here?" Eragon asked, astonished.

Angela smiled brightly and folded her hands in her lap. "Well, have a seat on the floor and I'll tell you. I would offer you a seat, but I'm sitting on the only one." Blaster and Eragon sat down, questions abuzz in their heads. "So, you _are_ Riders," Angela exclaimed. "I suspected as much, but I didn't know for certain until yesterday. I'm sure Solembum knew, but he never told me. Should have figured it out the moment you mentioned Brom, however. Saphira is a fitting name for a dragon. Saranya, on the otherhand, sounds weird."

"She's named after the goddess of the sky and clouds in one of my religions back home," Blaster said.

"Speaking of Brom," Eragon said, "why did you laugh at his fate when we were in Teirm and said it was something of a joke?"

"Because of a few reasons," Angela said. "He doesn't care for my 'frivolous' attitude towards magic. It irritates him. Secondly, he's cursed in a way to perpetually fail. He's succeeded several times, but his failures come at no fault of his own. Chosen to be a Rider, his dragon was killed. He loved, but his affection to the woman was her undoing. He did manage to kill Morzan, and bring you here under his guardianship and he has trained you. Both are huge successes, something not even I could have done."

"He never mentioned a woman to me," Eragon said. Blaster clamped his mouth shut, but was taking in everything with slight indifference. No one noticed.

"I heard it from one who couldn't have lied," Angela said. "But we are worrying about the past. Enough of this talk." She scooped up a pile of reeds from the floor and began to plate them together, closing the current subject.

"Well, last time I saw you, you were in Tierm," Blaster said. "Why are you here in Tronjheim?"

"Finally, an interesting question," Angela said. "After hearing Brom's name again during your visit, I sensed a return of the past to Alagaësia. People were whispering that the Empire was hunting a few Riders. I knew that the Varden's dragon eggs had hatched, so I closed up shop and set out to learn more."

"You knew of the eggs?" Eragon asked.

"I'm not an idiot," Angela retorted. "I've been around much longer than you would believe. Rarely does something happen that I don't know about." She paused to concentrate on her weaving for a moment. "Anyway, I knew I had to get to the Varden as quickly as possible. I've been here for nearly a month now, though I don't really care for the place. It's a little too musty for my taste. And everyone in Farthen Dûr is _so_ serious and noble. They're all probably doomed to tragic deaths anyway." She sighed. "And the dwarves are just a superstitious bunch of ninnies content to hammer rocks all their lives. The only redeeming factor: all the mushrooms and fungi that grow inside Farthen Dûr."

"Why stay then?" Eragon asked with a smile.

"Because I like to be wherever important events are happening," Angela replied, cocking her head. "Besides, if I stayed in Tierm, Solembum would have left without me, and I enjoy his company. But tell me, what adventures have you encountered since we last met?"

For the next hour, Eragon and Blaster summarized their experiences for the past two months. She sputtered when Blaster mentioned Murtagh in his travels, but allowed them to continue telling their tales. She leaned back in her chair in thought just before Solembum curled up on her lap, her weaving abandoned.

"Facinating," Angela said, petting the werecat. "Galbatorix allied with the Urgals and Murtagh finally out in the open…I'd warn you to be careful with Murtagh, but you've already proven me wrong. But, you never know what he has made you see."

"He's proven himself as an unwavering ally," Blaster said.

"Still, at least you've been warned," Angela said. She paused, then added distastefully, "And then there's the matter of this Shade, Durza. I think he's the greatest threat to the Varden right now, aside from Galbatorix. I utterly _loathe_ Shades—they practice the most unholy of magic aside from necromancy. I'd like to dig his heart out with a dull hairpin and feed it to a pig."

"Brom mentioned that Shades were just sorcerers who used spirits to accomplish their will," Eragon said. "Why does that make them so evil?"

"It doesn't," Angela said, shaking her head. "Ordinary sorcerers are just that, ordinary. They're neither better nor worse than the rest of us. They use their magical strength to control spirits and the spirits' power. Shades, on the other hand, relinquish that control in their search for greater power and allow their bodies to be controlled _by_ spirits. Unfortunately, only the evilest of spirits seek to possess humans, and once they've taken hold, they never leave. That kind of possession can happen by accident if a sorcerer summons a spirit stronger than himself. And it's a double-edged sword, for once a Shade is created, it is extremely difficult to kill. Only two people, Laetrí the Elf and Irnstad the Rider, have ever survived such a feat."

"I'm aware," Eragon replied. He thought for a moment. "Why are you so high up in Tronjheim? One more floor and you'd be living in the dragonhold. Isn't it inconvenient being up here? And how did you manage to get all this stuff up here?"

"Truthfully?" Angela said, suppressing a laugh. "I'm in hiding. When I first came to Tronjheim, I had a few days of peace…until one of the guards who let me into Farthen Dûr blabbed about who I was. Then all the magic users here, though they _barely_ rate the term, pestered me to join their secret group. Especially those drajl Twins who control it. Finally, I threatened to turn the lot of them into toads…excuse me, frogs…but when that didn't deter them, I snuck up here in the middle of the night. It was easier than you might think, what with the skills that I have."

"Did you have to let the Twins into your mind before you were allowed into Farthen Dûr?" Eragon asked. "Brom and I were forced to so they could sift through our memories, but Brom was allowed to check Blaster and Murtagh."

A cold gleam leapt into Angela's eye. "The Twins wouldn't dare probe me for fear of what I would do to them. Oh, they'd love to, but they know the effort would leave them broken and gibbering nonsense. I've been coming here _long_ before the Varden began examining people's minds. They're not about to start on me now."

She peered into the other room. "I'm sorry to cut our conversation short, but I have to tend to my potion. My brew of mandrake root and newt's tongue is about to boil, and is in need of my attention. Feel free to come again, but _don't_ tell anyone that I'm here. I'd hate to have to move again. It would make me very…_irritated._ And you won't like me when I'm irritated."

"Your secret's safe with us," Blaster said. Angela dug into her pocket as Solembum jumped to the floor.

"While I'm thinking of it," Angela said. She dug out about a dozen vials. Half were filled with a blue liquid slightly darker than the blue liquid Blaster had, the other half were a deep forest green. "Energy restoring elixirs and healing potions. Three of each for each of you." She handed Blaster six vials and handed Eragon the other three. "Only use them when you need them. It took me almost three months to make the two batches, and I've run out of the ingredients necessary to make more of them. Another reason why I came here."

Eragon accepted his, and was about to ask when Angela pointed out that the blue liquid was for healing and the green was to restore energy, which Blaster knew would confuse the hell out of him. They bade her farewell and left the room. Solembum guided them back to the dragonhold, then dismissed himself with a twitch of his tail before walking away.

**Will the duo reveal Angela's location? Can the witch really destroy the Twins? And how much longer will Arya and Char remain in the care of the healers? The answers to at least two of these questions coming up as we get close to rounding out _Eragon_ on _Free Riders._ Updating Tuesdays and Fridays.**

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><p><strong>w<strong>


	46. Ch45: In The Hall Of The Mountain King

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit. Actual title used, as well as a reference to the song of the same name.

Chapter 45: In The Hall Of The Mountain King

Blaster and Eragon were met by a dwarf waiting for them in the dragonhold. After bowing and muttering, "Argetlam," the dwarf said in a thick accent, "Good. Awake. Knurla Orik waits for you." He bowed again and scampered, leaving Blaster and Eragon to wonder what "Knurla" meant. Saphira and Sara jumped out of their caves, landing next to their Riders with a dull thud. Saphira had Zar'roc in her claws.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Blaster asked.

_Eragon, you should wear it_, Saphira replied. _You are a Rider and should bear a Rider's sword. Zar'roc may have a bloody history, but that should not shape your actions. Forge a new history for it, and carry it with pride._

"Do you not remember Ajihad's councel?" Eragon asked.

_Wear it,_ Saphira said, a puff of smoke rising from her nostrils. _If you wish to remain above the forces here, do not let anyone's disproval dictate your actions._

"Okay," Eragon replied, belting the sword. Blaster had belted on Cratona, then the two climbed onto their dragon's backs and flew out of Tronjheim. The light was enough for all of them to see the hazy outline of Farthen Dûr's crater walls, easily five miles in every direction. As they spiraled down to the base of the city-mountain, the Riders told their dragons about their meeting with Angela.

As soon as they landed by one of Tronjheim's gates, Orik ran to Saphira's side. Sara landed right next to them. "I have talked to Brom and delayed your assessment, Eragon. My king, Hrothgar, wishes to see you all. Dismount quickly. We must hurry."

Eragon and Blaster trotted after the dwarf into Tronjheim. Saphira and Sara kept pace behind them easily. Ignoring the stares from people within the large corridor, Eragon asked, "Where will we meet Hrothgar?"

"In the throne room beneath the city," Orik said, not even pausing to slow down. "It will be a private audience as an act of otho—of 'faith.' You do not have to address him in any manner, but speak to him respectfully. Hrothgar is quick to anger, but he is wise and sees keenly into the minds of men, so think carefully before you speak."

Inside Tronjheim's central chamber, Orik led the way to one of the two descending stairways that flanked the opposite hallway. They started down the right-hand staircase which curved gently to the left until they were facing the direction they came from. The left-hand staircase merged with theirs to form a broad staircase that ended, after a hundred feet, before two granite doors. A seven-point crown was carved across both doors.

The seven motif continued as there were seven dwarves standing on each side of the portal. They held burnished mattocks and wore gem-encrusted belts. As the group approached, the dwarves pounded the floor with the hafts of their mattocks, creating a deep boom that rolled back up the stairs. The doors swung inwards.

The doors opening revealed a natural cave with walls lined with stalagmites and stalactites thicker than a man. The brown floor was polished smooth. Sparsely hung lanterns cast a moody light. At the end of the hall, a good bowshot long, sat a black throne with a motionless figure upon it.

Orik bowed. "The king awaits you." Eragon put his hand on Saphira's side while Blaster nodded. The four of them continued forward, the doors closing behind them, leaving them alone with the king.

Their footsteps reverberated through the hall as they approached the throne. In each of the recesses between the stalactites and stalagmites were large sculptures. Each sculpture was of a dwarf king, crowned and sitting on a throne, their sightless eyes gazing sternly into the distance, and fierce expressions on their stone faces. A name was chiseled in runes beneath each set of feet.

They continued onwards until, after passing more than forty statues, roughly twenty on each side, they came upon empty alcoves awaiting the likenesses of future kings. They stopped before Hrothgar at the end of the hall where he sat like a statue on a throne carved from a single piece of black marble. Blocky, unadorned, and cut with unyielding precision, the strength of the ancient times when the dwarves ruled in Alagaësia without opposition emanated from the throne.

Hrothgar himself was adorned with a gold helm lines with rubies and diamonds in place of a crown. He had a grim, weathered, and hewn visage from many years' experience. His eyes glinted under his craggy brow, flinty and piercing. His chest was adorned with a rippled mail shirt, and a long white beard was tucked under his belt. In his lap rested a mighty war hammer, emblazoned with the symbol of Orik's clan embossed on the head.

Eragon bowed awkwardly and knelt, but Blaster knelt then bowed. Saphira and Sara remained upright. The king stirred, as if awakening from a long sleep, and rumbled, "Rise, Riders, you need not pay tribute to me."

Straitening, Eragon and Blaster looked up to Hrothgar and met his impenetrable eyes. The king inspected them with hard gazes, then said gutturally, "Âz knurl demn lanok. 'Beware, the rock changes.' An old dictum of ours…And nowadays the rock changes very fast indeed." He fingered the war hammer. "I could not meet with you earlier, as Ajihad did, because I was forced to deal with my enemies within the clans. They demanded that I deny you sanctuary and expel you from Farthen Dûr. It has taken much work on my part to convince them otherwise."

"And for that, you have our thanks," Blaster replied. "I'm sure we didn't anticipate such strife could be caused by our arrival."

The king accepted the thanks, then lifted a gnarled hand and pointed. "See there, Riders Eragon and Blastbone, where my predecessors sit upon their graven thrones. One and forty there are, with I the fourty-second. When I pass from this world into the care of the gods, my hírna will be added to their ranks. The first statue is the likeness of my ancestor Korgan, who forged this mace, Volund. For eight millennia—since the dawn of our race—dwarves have ruled under Farthen Dûr. We are the bones of the land, older than both the fair elves and the savage dragons." Saphira and Sara shifted slightly.

Hrothgar leaned forward, his voice deep and gravelly. "I am old, humans—even by our reckoning—old enough to have seen the Riders in all their fleeting glory, old enough to have spoken with their last leader, Vrael, who paid tribute to me within these very walls. Few are still alive who can claim that much. I remember the Riders and how the meddled in our affairs. I also remember the peace they kept that made it possible to walk unharmed from Tronjheim to Narda.

"And now you stand before me—a lost tradition revived. Tell me, and speak truly in this, why have you come to Farthen Dûr? I know of the events that made you flee the Empire, but what is your intent now?"

"For now, we wish to rest and recuperate in Tronjheim," Eragon said. "We've faced many dangers in the many months we've traveled, so we wish to find sanctuary, but not to cause trouble. We may be sent to the elves by Ajihad, but until then, we have no desire to leave."

"Is that the only desire that drove you?" Hrothgar asked. "Do you seek to live here and forget your troubles with the Empire?"

"No, Your Majesty," Blaster said, forgetting that he didn't have to address Hrothgar in a special manner. "If Ajihad has told you of our pasts, then you will know that there are enough grievances we have faced to fight the Empire and Galbatorix until they are nothing but scattered ashes. But it's more than that, Your Majesty. Eragon and I have seen first-hand what the Empire has done…what they have let flourish that should have been abolished. There are people in there that are unable to escape from Galbatorix's iron rule. We have the strength and the will to do it, so it is only fitting that we must try to save as many as we can before our time is up."

The king seemed satisfied with Blaster's answer. He turned to the dragons and asked, "Dragons, what think you in this matter? For what reasons have you come?"

Saphira and Sara both curled their lips in growls. _Tell him that I speak for the both of us, as we agreed that one of us should speak to save time,_ Saphira said. _Tell him that we thirst for the blood of our enemies and eagerly await the day when we ride into battle against Galbatorix. We've no love nor mercy for traitors and egg breakers like that false king. He held us for over a century and, even now, still has two of our brethren, whom we will free if possible. And tell him that we think you two are ready for this task._

Eragon grimaced at her words, but dutifully relayed them. The corner of Hrothgar's mouth lifted in a hint of grim amusement, deepening his wrinkles. "I see that dragons have not changed with the centuries." He tapped the stone with a knuckle. "Do you know why this seat was quarried so flat and angular? So that no one would sit comfortably in it. I have not, and will relinquish it without regret when my time comes. What is there to remind you of your obligations, Eragon? If the Empire falls, will you take Galbatorix's place and claim his kingship?"

"I do not seek to wear the crown or rule," Eragon said, troubled. "Being a Rider is responsibility enough. No, I would not take the throne in Urû'baen. Not unless there was no one else willing or competent enough to take it."

Hrothgar warned gravely, "Certainly you would be a kinder king than Galbatorix, but no race should have a leader who does not age or leave the throne." He turned to Blaster. "And what of you, Blastbone? What do you have to remind you of your obligations?"

"I have responsibility enough being called 'The Chosen One' by my people," Blaster said. "A great evil has torn all but my fiancé and a few select friends away from me, and I will stop at nothing to make sure that this great evil has been served his justice. When I am done here, I will return to free those under the rule of this great evil. Like with Eragon, I do not seek to take the throne, but I will not stand idly and let an incompetent person rule without consequence."

"That is a truly worthy ambition and obligation," Hrothgar replied. "But you should know the time of the Riders has passed. They will never rise again—not even if Galbatorix should get his other eggs to hatch." A shadow crossed his face as he gazed at Eragon's side. "I see you carry an enemy's sword. I was told of this, and that you, Blaster, traveled with a son of the Forsworn. It does not please me to see this weapon." He extended a hand. "I would like to examine it."

Eragon drew Zar'roc and presented it to the king, hilt first. Hrothgar took the sword and ran a practiced eye over the red blade. The edge caught in the lantern light, reflecting it sharply. He tested the point with his palm, then said, "A masterfully forged blade. Elves rarely choose to make swords—they prefer bows and spears—but when they do, the results are unmatched. This is an ill-fated blade and I am not happy to see it within my realm. But carry it if you will. Perhaps its luck has changed." He returned Zar'roc, and Eragon sheathed it. "Has my nephew proved helpful during your time here?"

"Who?" Eragon asked.

"Wait, Orik is your nephew?" Blaster added.

"Yes," Hrothgar replied. "He's my youngest sister's son. He's been serving under Ajihad to show my support for the Varden. It seems that he has been returned to my command, however. I was gratified to hear that you defended him with your words."

"To be fair, Orik also defended himself with his actions," Blaster replied. He realized this was another sign of otho on Hrothgar's part. "We couldn't have asked for a better guide."

"That is good," Hrothgar said, clearly pleased. "Unfortunately, I cannot speak with you much longer. My advisors wait for me, as there are matters I must deal with. I will say this, though: If you wish the support of the dwarves within my realm, you must first prove yourself to them. We have long memories and do not rush to hasty decisions. Words will decide nothing, only deeds."

"We'll keep that in mind," Eragon said, bowing again.

Hrothgar nodded regally. "You may go then."

Blaster bowed himself, then turned with everyone else and proceeded out of the hall of the mountain king.

* * *

><p><strong>What other, hidden signs of faith did Hrothgar give the Riders and Dragons? Will the clans accept the Riders as allies? What will happen next time? Stay tuned to find out. <em>Free Riders<em> continues Tuesdays and Fridays on a hopefully regular schedule, with a multi-chapter story finale in a few updates. Please R&R, and remember, Flames will not be tolerated.  
><strong>


	47. Ch46: Crouching Morons, Hidden Dragons

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit. Title reference to Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon.

Chapter 46: Crouching Morons, Hidden Dragons

Orik was waiting for the four on the other side of the stone doors, anxiousness plastered all over his face. He fell in with them as they climbed back up to Tronjheim's main chamber. "Did all go well? Were you received favorably?"

"I do believe so," Blaster said. Orik breathed a sigh in relief.

"But your king is cautious," Eragon added.

"That is how he has survived this long," Orik replied.

_I would rather not have Hrothgar angry at us_, Sara said.

_Nor would I_, Blaster replied. _However, I'm not exactly sure what he thought of you two. He seems to disapprove of dragons, but he never said it outright._

_ In that he is wise,_ Sara replied in amusement. _Especially since he's barely knee-high to me._

Once they had entered Tronjheim's center, under Isidar Mithrim, Orik said, "Your blessing yesterday has stirred up the Varden like an overturned beehive. The child Sara touched has been hailed as a future hero. She and her guardian have been quartered in the finest rooms. Everyone is talking about your 'miracle.' All the human mothers seem intent on finding you and getting the same for their children."

Blaster's eyes bulged. "Crap!" he exclaimed. "How did I know this would happen?" He buried his head in his hands. "Okay, what am I to do now?"

"Aside from taking back your actions?" Orik replied dryly. "Stay out of sight as much as possible. Everyone will be kept out of the dragonhold, so you won't be disturbed there."

At that point, Brom showed up to take Eragon and Saphira to the training grounds. Taking one look at Blaster, he asked, "Are you rested enough to be tested?"

"Not yet," Blaster said. "I wish to take one more day to ensure I am rested enough to perform the tasks at hand. Plus, I would like to take in a bit more of Tronjheim as well."

"I understand," Brom said. "Orik, will you like to show Blaster the library? He can read up on some interesting reads, especially histories of Alagaësia that hasn't been tainted by Galbatorix's hand."

"Sounds like a plan," Blaster said.

"Very well," Orik said. "But first, for all of us, breakfast."

_Saphira and I will head to the dragonhold. There is someone we would like to meet up there. Wander as long as you like, but call when you are ready for your testing, Eragon._ Sara and Saphira began to pad their ways down one of Tronjheim's four main tunnels.

"Who are they planning on meeting?" Eragon asked.

"Beats me," Blaster replied.

They all ate at the same spot where they had eaten last time. After they ate, Brom took Eragon to the training grounds while Orik guided Blaster through a myriad of corridors to their destination. When they reached the library's carved arch, Blaster stepped through and couldn't even begin to imagine what wealth of knowledge was here.

The entire room reminded him of a forest. He shuddered for a moment, but remembered that this universe didn't have such enemies as the Vashda Nerada.**(a)** Rows of graceful colonnades branched upwards into the dark, ribbed ceiling five stories up. Between the pillars, the same type of black-marble used to create Hrothgar's throne was made into bookcases that stood back to back. Racks of scrolls covered the walls, interspersed with narrow walkways that could be reached by three twisting staircases. Stone benches were placed at regular intervals around the wall, with adjoining tables whose bases seemed to melt into the floor seamlessly.

"This is the true legacy of our race," Orik said, gesturing to the countless books and scrolls. "Here reside the writings of our greatest kings and scholars, from antiquity to present. Also recorded are the songs and stories composed by our artisans. This library may be our most precious possession. It isn't all our work, though. There are human writings here as well. Yours is a short-lived, but prolific race. As for the elves, we have little or nothing from them. They guard their secrets jealously."

"I see," Blaster said. "How long may I stay?"

"As long as you want," Orik replied. "Come to me if you have any questions."

Blaster started browsing through the volumes with eagerness, reaching for those he thought would intrigue him. He was surprised to see that the dwarves wrote in the same runes as humans wrote in, so, in that respect, it was easy to read. He filed through books at an alarming rate, skimming a translation of poems by Dóndar, tenth dwarf king.

Blaster soon became aware of some unfamiliar footsteps approaching from behind the bookcase. He put back the book telling of all the dwarf kings up to the present day, with the ink from the last entries still a little wet. Still, he felt uneasy, which was the same feeling he had when he first walked in and had the examination performed. He heard the footsteps again, but now there were two of them. While looking for Orik, he sidestepped around a corner and came face to face with the Twins.

_Oh great,_ Blaster muttered to himself. _I've come face to face with the bald brigade._

The twins stood together, shoulders meeting, and a blank expression on their faces. Black snake eyes seemed to bore into him. Their hands were hidden within the folds of their purple robes, though he could see that they twitched slightly. They both bowed, but the movement was insolent and derisive.

"We have been searching for you," one said. The voice was as uncomfortable as listening to the Ra'zac. With a thought, Blaster contacted Sara and got her to listen in on the conversation.

"For what reason?" Blaster asked.

"Ever since you met with Ajihad, we have wanted to…apologize for our actions." The words were mocking, but not in a way Blaster could challenge. "We have come to pay homage to you." They bowed again, though Blaster tried his best to control his anger.

_Be careful_, Sara warned.

Blaster had an idea come to him. "Well, if not nor your…approval, I would not be here in Farthen Dûr. For that you have my thanks." He bowed to them in return, trying to make it as insulting as possible without them knowing.

The Twins eyes flickered in irritation, but they smiled and replied, "We are honored that one so…important…as yourself thinks so highly of us. We are in your debt for your kind words."

Blaster felt irritated now, but he never showed it. "Don't mention it."

_Careful,_ Sara warned again. _Don't say anything you'll regret later. They will remember every word they can use against you._

_ Thanks for the reminder_, Blaster replied. _Besides, I don't plan on being in need enough for them to be of any assistance to me._

The Twins moved closer, the hems of their robes brushing the floor. Their voices became more plesant as well, which unnerved Blaster slightly. "We have searched for you for another reason as well, Rider. The few magic users who live in Tronjheim have formed a group. We call ourselves Du Vrangr Gata, or the—"

"The Wandering Path," Blaster said. "I am aware."

"Your knowledge of the ancient language is impressive," one of the Twins said, smoothly. "As we were saying Du Vrangr Gata has heard of your mighty feats, and we have come to extend an invitation of membership. We would be honored to have one of your stature as a member. And I suspect that we might be able to assist you as well."

"Oh really?" Blaster replied, skeptical. "How so."

"The two of us have garnered much experience in magical matters," The other Twin said.

"I'll bet you have," Blaster muttered to himself.

"We could guide you," the second Twin continued. "Show you spells we've discovered and teach you words of power. Nothing would gladden us more than if we could assist, in some small way, your path to glory. No repayment would be necessary, though if you saw fit to share some scraps of your own knowledge, we would be satisfied."

Blaster shook his head, realizing their true purpose in a heartbeat. "Do you really think that I am a moron?" he demanded harshly. "I won't allow myself to be an apprentice to you so you can learn what words Brom has taught me! It must have frustrated you when Brom himself decided to examine me, robbing you of the chance to steal them from my mind."

The Twins abruptly dropped their smiles. "We are not to be trifled with, boy! We are the ones who will test your abilities with magic. And that could be _most_ unpleasant. Remember, it only takes one misconceived spell to kill someone. You may be a Rider, but the two of us are still stronger than you."

Blaster just looked them angrily in the eyes, holding back the floodgates of his fury. "I shall consider your offer, but…"

"Then we will expect your answer tomorrow. Make sure it's the right one." And with that, they smiled coldly and slipped further into the library.

_Insolent pond scum,_ Blaster muttered to Sara. _They can do anything they want, but they have severely underestimated their own powers. No matter what they try, I will not join them._

_A wise decision,_ Sara said. _Perhaps you should talk with Angela. She's dealt with them before, so you could ask her to be there when they test you. That might prevent them from harming you._

_Good idea,_ Blaster said, winding through the bookcases. _But you forget, my inherent magic is still stronger than theirs. Whatever they try, I can and will counter._ He finally found Orik sitting on a bench, polishing his war ax. "I think I'm done here. I'd like to go back to the dragonhold."

Orik slid the haft of the axe through a leather loop at his belt, then escorted Blaster to the gate where Sara waited. People had already gathered around her. Ignoring them, Blaster leapt onto Sara's back and they escaped into the air.

_This is one problem that must be resolved quickly. You cannot let the Twins intimidate you,_ Sara said as she landed on Isidar Mithrim.

_Yeah, I know,_ Blaster replied. _I don't want to anger them into retaliation. They could be dangerous enemies._ He slid off Sara's back, still gripping Cratona's pommel.

_So can you. You don't want them as allies, right?_

_ You got it,_ Blaster said. _No way am I joining their little magic club either._

He left Sara in her cave and wandered around for a little while, hoping to chance a meeting with Angela. Getting back to her room was easy, but she didn't answer when he knocked. Unfortunately, he slowly got bored and decided to go back to the dragonhold. As he neared it, he heard someone speaking within the room. He stopped to listen, but the voice fell silent. _Sara, who's in there?_

_ A woman,_ Sara replied. _She has an air of command around her. I'll distract her while you come in._ Blaster loosened Cratona, but made sure his pistols were secure. _Orik said that intruders would be kept out of the dragonhold, so who could this be?_

_No idea._ Blaster replied. _Are Eragon and Saphira back?_

_Not yet._

Calming himself, Blaster walked into the hold, hand resting on the pommel.

* * *

><p><strong>Who is the woman? Are the Twins on to Blaster? What other enemies can Blaster remember? Find out the answers to these and more next time on <em>Free Riders.<em>  
><strong>

**(a) Vashda Nerada. Doctor Who enemy known as the Piranhas of the Air. Seen in the episodes **_**Silence in the Library**_** and **_**Forest of the Dead**_


	48. Ch47: A Test of Magic and Might

Free Riders

Author's Note: Oh my, two posts in one day? Gotta be a record this month..._Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit. Title attempted reference to "Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows" Chapter "Magic is Might."

Chapter 47: A Test of Magic and Might

A young woman stood in the center of the room, looking curiously at Sara, who had stuck her head out of the cave. The woman didn't appear to be more than seventeen years old. A rosy light was cast on her by Isidar Mithrim, accentuating her dark skin, which was just as dark as Ajihad's. She wore an elegantly cut velvet dress in wine red, and a jeweled dagger, worn with use, hung from her waist in a tooled leather sheath.

Blaster crossed his arms and leaned against the entrance arch, waiting for the woman to notice him. However, she continued to look at Sara. Sweetly, she asked, "Could you please tell me where Rider Blastbone is?" Sara's eyes sparkled with amusement.

Blaster cleared his throat, causing the woman to spin around to face him, hand flying to her dagger. Her face was striking, with almond-shaped eyes, wide lips, and rounded cheekbones. After seeing Blaster smiling at her, stifling a snicker, she relaxed and curtsied. "I am Nasuada," she said.

Blaster nodded in kind. "Well, you obviously know my name. Might I ask what you are doing up here?"

Nasuada smiled charmingly. "My father, Ajihad sent me here with a message. Would you like to hear it?"

Blaster bobbed his head slightly. "Proceed."

Nasuada tossed her hair back and recited: "He is pleased that you are doing well, but he cautions you against actions like your benediction yesterday. They create more problems than they solve."

"No kidding," Blaster muttered.

"Also, he urges you to proceed with the testing as soon as possible—he needs to know how capable you are before he communicates with the elves."

"You didn't climb up all this way just to tell me that, did you?" Blaster asked.

Nasuada shook her head. "I used the pulley system that transports goods to the upper levels. We could have sent the message with signals, but I decided to bring it myself and meet you in person."

"Well, since you're up here, care to sit down?" Blaster gestured to Sara's cave.

"No, I'm expected elsewhere," Nasuada replied. "You should know that my father has allowed Murtagh to leave. I went to see him and he wishes to see you before he goes. He will be by the southern gate tomorrow about an hour after mid-day."

"Thanks," Blaster replied. "Have you heard anything on Arya and Char? I want to know if they are better and when it would be okay to see them."

"Arya is recovering swiftly, as all elves do," Nasuada said mischievously. "Char too has recovered rather quickly, but she is no elf. Unless she is secretly a Rider, which I doubt, I cannot explain it. However, no one may see them except my father, Hrothgar, Brom, and the healers. They have spent their time with them, learning all that occurred during their imprisonment." She paused for a moment. "Is there anything you wish to have me convey to Ajihad on your behalf?"

"Nothing but a desire to meet with my fiancé once everything is sorted. And, give him our thanks for his hospitality."

"Very well." Nasuada curtsied again. "Farewell, Rider Blastbone. I hope we meet again soon." Blaster bowed slightly in return, then watched as Nasuada walked out, head held high. _Call me crazy, but there was more than just idle chat for coming up here._

_Aye,_ Sara replied. Eragon and Saphira glided in moments after Blaster had climbed into Sara's cave. She had Solembum curled up in the hollow at the base of her neck, which surprised Blaster slightly. The two looked at Blaster with a look that asked, "What?"

_You mean to tell me you wanted to talk to Solembum?_ Blaster asked.

_Yes._ Blaster was not expecting both of them to speak to him at once.

_Solembum, do you happen to know where Angela is?_

_Somewhere in Tronjheim,_ The warecat replied.

_Will she return before tomorrow?_

_ No._

_Okay, thanks._ Blaster rested against Sara. "So," he shouted over to Eragon, "how did it go?"

"Not bad," Eragon replied. He stuck his head out of the cavern. "Brom said that he was asked to do something and would be unavailable until after your test, so don't expect him to be there to assist you."

"Thanks," Blaster said. "Tomorrow's going to be a fun day."

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

Blaster rolled out of bed on the third day in Tronjheim refreshed. Immediately, he belted on his sword, holstered his pistols, strung his bow and shouldered his quiver. After a quick lap around Farthen Dûr, he and Sara landed near Orik, ready for their test. Blaster began asking about Nasuada.

"She is the most unusual girl," Orik replied. "She's totally devoted to her father and spends her time helping him whenever she can. I think she does more than Ajihad knows, as she has been known to maneuver his enemies without ever revealing her part in it."

"Do you know her mother?" Blaster asked.

"No," Orik replied. "Ajihad was alone when he brought Nasuada to Farthen Dûr as a newborn child. He never said where he and Nasuada came from."

"A pity," Blaster said. He began to limber up his arms. "So, were are the training grounds for the test? I'm about as ready to fight as a bull against a matador."

"It's a half a mile from Tronjheim, but you cannot see it because it is on the other side of the city mountain. It's large enough for humans and dwarves to practice."

_I will come as well,_ Sara said. Orik protested, but, after some persuasion, and some growling, the matter was dropped and Sara accompanied them.

It only took about fifteen minutes to get to the training grounds, where the sound of steel on steel could be heard, as were the sounds of arrows hitting targets, rattling and loud clacks of wooden sticks colliding, and the shouting of men in mock battles. It was unique to hear each rhythm colliding chaotically against each other.

The bulk of the training ground was taken by a crooked block of foot soldiers struggling with shields and poleaxes nearly as tall as themselves. They drilled in formations as a group. Hundreds of individual warriors outfitted with various weapons and shields of all kinds were practicing around the formation. Blaster even saw one wielding a pitchfork. The armor worn was mostly chain mail and a helmet, since Blaster thought making plate armor would be too expensive at this point in time. The dwarves and the humans practiced separately, and archers fired at targets behind the sparring warriors.

As Blaster looked on, a bearded man, his head and blocky shoulders covered in a mail coif, walked over to them. The rest of him was protected by a rough oxhide suit that still had some hair on it. A huge sword—one Blaster though was just about as big as Cloud Strife's—hung across his broad back. He ran a quick eye over Blaster and Sara, as if to determine how dangerous they were. Finally, he gruffly said, "Knurla Orik. You've been gone too long. There's nobody left for me to spar with."

"Oeí," Orik replied with a smile. "That's because you bruise everyone from head to toe with your monster sword."

"Everyone except you," he corrected.

"That's because I'm faster than a giant like you."

The man looked at Eragon again. "I'm Fredric. I've been told to find out what you can do. How strong are you?"

"Stronger than some may think," Blaster replied. "Some days, I even surprise myself. Of course, I kinda have to be strong to cast magic."

Fredric shook his head, causing the coif to rattle like coins in the bottom of a purse. "Magic has no place in what we do here. Unless you've served in an army, I doubt any fights you've been in lasted more than a few minutes. It is possible, though. What we're concerned about is how you'll be able to hold up in a battle that may drag on for hours, or even weeks if it's a siege. Do you know how to use any weapons besides that sword, bow, and those…boom-sticks?"

"Besides my usual armaments, I am skilled in using my body as a weapon," Blaster replied. "Quite handy with a knife too."

"Good answer," Fredric laughed. "Well, we'll start you off with the bow and see how you do. Then once some space has cleared up on the field, we'll try—" He broke off suddenly and stared past Blaster angrily.

The Twins stalked towards them, bald heads nearly white against the purple robes. Orik muttered something in Dwarvish and slipped his war ax out of his belt. "I told you two to stay away from the training area," Fredric said, stepping forward threateningly. The Twins looked fragile against his bulk.

"We were ordered by Ajihad to test Blastbone's proficiency with magic—_before_ you exhaust him banging pieces of metal," one of the Twins said.

"Can't Brom test him?" Fredric glowered.

"No, he was asked to do something else, and there is no one else powerful enough." Sara growled at the Twins and glared at them, smoke rolling from her nostrils. They ignored her. "Come with us." They strode to an empty corner.

As Blaster walked towards them, he heard Fredric behind him say, "We have to stop them from going too far."

"I know," Orik replied, "but I cannot interfere again. Hrothgar made it clear he won't be able to protect me next time it happens."

Blaster calmed his mind and, looking at his wrist computer, noticed that the Ancient Translator was active once again, so he would be speaking in the ancient language, but he would be hearing it in English. Knowing he was much stronger than the Twins let on, he allowed Sara to join him when he was ready. Finally, the Twins turned and looked at Blaster. "And how do you answer us, Blastbone?"

"No," Blaster said, ignoring the puzzled looks from his companions.

The Twins looked unnerved, but satisfied in a way. They drew a large pentagram on the ground, then stepped into the middle of it once it was finished. They then said harshly, "We begin now. You will attempt to complete the tasks we assign you…that is all."

One Twin pulled out a small rock the size of Blaster's fist and set it on the ground. "Lift it to eye level."

_There is no way that they would go this easy on me,_ Blaster thought. Focusing, he heard himself say "_Stone, rise_." Even though he heard English, his mouth formed the words in the ancient language. The stone lifted off the ground, and was about a foot into the air when there was some unknown resistance. The Twins smirked, but Blaster smirked as well. _They think they can get me to fail with their combined strength. They are sorely mistaken._ He focused a little harder, and asked for a little of Sara's help, and the stone smoothly lifted to eye level. The Twins' eyes narrowed cruelly.

"Very…good," they hissed. Fredric looked uneasy at this magic display. "Now move the stone in a circle." Without speaking, Blaster moved the stone because he was just redirecting it, and with Sara's help, they were able to overcome the Twins' attempts to make him fail, which angered the Twins. As exercises increased in complexity and difficulty, Blaster realized their true purpose, to learn what words he'd learned in the ancient language, so he resorted to thinking outside the box, using the simplest phrases possible, and muttering his words so that no one but himself could hear them.

This new tactic angered the Twins even more as his ingenuity often outsmarted their attempts at complexity. No matter how hard they tried, he would prevail. After an hour of this, Blaster was sure the Twins were running out of ideas. He has manipulated water, cast fire, scryed, juggled rocks, hardened leather, froze items, healed scratches, and even controlled the flight of two arrows at once to test himself more than the Twins. He was starting to get a little tired from all the continuous magic use indigenous to this universe, but if the Twins didn't stop for a reprieve, he would not either.

"One last thing left to do," one of the Twins said. "It is simple enough—any _competent_ user of magic should find this easy." He removed a silver ring from his finger and smugly handed it to Blaster. "Summon the essence of silver."

Blaster stared at the ring in his hand. _Any _competent _user of magic should find this easy?_ He thought. _They really want me to fail at this one._

_What will you do? _Sara asked.

_Invoke the essence of silver,_ Blaster said. _In my language._

Just as he was about to speak, another, clear, vibrant voice split the air.

"STOP!"

* * *

><p><strong>Who issued the order to cease? Why was Blaster so keen on just using this universe's magic? Find out the answers next time on <em>Free Riders<em>.  
><strong>


	49. Ch48: Blades of Fury

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 48: Blades of Fury

"STOP!"

Blaster turned around, recognizing the voice as being familiar. Behind them stood Brom, Eragon, Saphira, and, to Blaster's surprise, Char and Arya. Arya was the one who spoke, her anger evident. A leather strip encircled her brow, restraining her long, black hair behind her shoulders. Her sword and bow were on her, and she wore plain black leather on her shapely frame. She was taller than most men, her stance balanced and relaxed, and her face showed none of the abuse she had endured.

Right next to her, Char was in her usual blue jeans, white tank top and black sleeveless leather jacket. Her belt was about as adorned as Blaster's, complete with two pistols, a hand-and-a-half sword, and a crossbow on her back. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail, and the only scar left on her body was the one she refused to get rid of on her cheek.

"Shame!" Arya shouted, approaching in footsteps that were deceptively soft. If it were Char or his other friend, Wendy, walking up, Blaster would have thought the roof would have caved in. "Shame on you to ask of him what only a master can do. Shame that you should use such methods. Shame you told Ajihad you didn't know Blaster's abilities when Brom told you completely. He is competent, now leave!"

Blaster turned back to the Twins, who began cowering in fear. "Though, not without this parting gift." He looked in the palm of his hand and, without even thinking, shouted, "Witeir!"

The silver shimmered, and a ghostly image of the ring materialized next to it. They were identical up to the apparition being white hot and looking much purer. The Twins looked terrified and fled. Blaster canceled the magic, causing the apparition to fade away, leaving just the silver ring, muttering "Shol'va's." The group Blaster knew by name looked at him in awe.

Arya eyed them all, then surveyed Blaster. With a quick look to Char, she nodded and strode back over to the group. Sara was crouched, ready for action, but as Char approached, the warriors stopped. Soon, there was a clear circle at least thirty feet away from her and Blaster. Sara started to pad away, but Blaster stopped her, taking off his holsters, his bow, and his quiver and placing them into the saddle bags. Sara walked over and allowed Char to shed her unnecessary weapons as well. "Will you accept a challenge to the test of arms from me?"

"Gladly," Blaster replied. He drew Cratona just as Char drew her own sword, which she named Blentina, or Protector in Torillian.

The two slowly began to circle one another, their swords at the ready. Though Char was still only two days out of recovery, Blaster knew that her strength must have returned when she was cured of the poison if she was wishing to fight. As he continued, he contacted Char and asked, _Shall we show them how well we both fight?_

_No scars, though_, Char replied. _I don't need another "souvenir."_

Blaster barely nodded, as they continued to circle. Two rotations in, Char and Blaster stopped. Without warning, Char launched at Blaster and went to an overhand swing, which Blaster deftly blocked. Before he could counter, she spun around and went for his left arm, which he also blocked. She spun around within a second of their swords making contact to try for his right arm. He ducked and went to stab, only for Char to knock the blade out of the way before hitting. The two spun and blocked each other again and again before the action slowed down for a few seconds as the two spun their swords around their bodies, looking for an opening until an overhead clash stopped the spinning.

"Think we're getting a little too flashy with our sword swings?" Blaster muttered. The two blades were locked together for the moment.

"I'm just getting warmed up anyway," Char said.

The two disengaged and clashed again. With skill that would make even a Jedi proud, the two danced around each other, sometimes back-to-back blocking sword swings. Sparks flew any time the blades collided, and when they weren't butted up against each other, the blades were blurs of blue and grey. Of course, whenever the two backed away from each other for even a second, they would soon be drawn together again like magnets to continue battering each other's defenses. Eragon and Brom were astonished at the complexity of moves Blaster knew, and the speeds that were ever increasing between sword swings.

Char was on the defensive after her aggressive opening. Blaster could see her getting more and more exhausted as the fight continued, but he knew he was getting exhausted as well. It would be one of the deciding points in the match: Who would fall victim to exhaustion first? The two of them kept deflecting sword swings, each of them breathing heavily, sweat pouring from their brows, and a smile on their faces. After about fifteen to twenty minutes of beating on each other, Blaster saw an opening and stabbed. His blade stopped just as it touched fabric. Char had been expecting this and her blade was resting on his right shoulder, barely rubbing his neck.

"That was the best bit of sparring I've ever had with you since we forged these blades," Char said. "But you've slowed down quite a bit."

"To keep from beating the snot out of Eragon," Blaster admitted. They lowered their swords. "I have missed you."

"And I you," Char replied. Sheathing her sword, she closed the gap between the two of them and wrapped her arms around him in a hug that Blaster eagerly returned. Their lips locked seconds later in the first kiss the two had had in almost half a year. In the back of his head, Blaster could hear the shouts and cheers from the other soldiers, and a pang of jealousy from Saranya, the first of many he thought would be between him and Sara.

"I missed that too," Blaster said as they broke the kiss.

"I bet you did," Char said with a smirk. "Oh, and, just so you know, the gift is thoughtful, even though it won't really turn out right."

Blaster shook his head and let out a laugh. Ever since he knew Char, she had been able to accurately predict the future at times, assuming that some unknown force didn't alter what happened between the reading and the later event. Blaster knew that the skill was useful in everything except when picking lottery numbers, which Char could never accurately predict.

"That was incredible," Orik said, approaching. "I've never seen two humans fight with such ferocity as those two did. If you ask me, I'd say that they'd be perfect in the coming battles."

"Indeed," Fredric replied. "A little too fancy though, in my opinion. Although, I do believe I learned some new moves from watching the two of them."

"How come you've never shown such proficiency to us?" Eragon asked as he approached.

"You didn't need to know," Blaster said. "Plus, if I had fought you like that, you would have easily been beaten. I would imagine I would be a formidable opponent to the elves if I ever turned, which I have no plan to in any case."

"I can already tell you that you are more skilled with the blade than any other Rider I've ever seen at this stage of their training," Brom said. "You must have had good training in order to get to that level of skill."

"Eh, most of the time, I just wing it anyway," Blaster replied with a wink.

Arya nodded to Blaster, then gestured for everyone but Brom, Orik, and Fredric to follow. Some quick apologies to Orik, Eragon and Blaster mounted their dragons, with Char hopping onto Sara's back behind Blaster. Arya motioned to a knoll about a mile away and ran towards it, Sara and Saphira behind her.

_Okay, why are you jealous now?_ Blaster questioned.

_I never get jealous_, Sara replied, offended.

_You were when Char and I kissed,_ Blaster mentioned. He felt another twinge of jealousy. _Just because I've been with you for about half a year doesn't mean a thing when it comes to my relationship with Char. We've been best friends for almost twenty-five years. I proposed to her nearly eighteen years ago. And I know jealousy, so you are jealous right now._

_I am not!_ Sara replied, clamping her jaws shut loudly.

Blaster shook his head. _Deny it all you want, but I know of your feelings. But, what bothers me more is why you are so jealous now when you weren't during our little escapade from Gil'ead._ She landed heavily on the knoll, nearly knocking both Blaster and Char from her back, ending their conversation. They slid off her back just as Saphira landed on the knoll, being just as rough with Eragon.

Arya was close behind them, her stride carrying her about as fast, if not faster than Blaster in Dras-Leona. When she reached the top of the knoll, her breathing was smooth and regular, as if it took no energy at all to run. Eragon was suddenly tongue-tied and dropped his gaze. She merely strode past them and said to the dragons, in the ancient language, "Dragons, I honor you and mean you and your Riders no harm. Let us be friends."

Eragon didn't understand a few words Arya said, but Blaster and Char were able to hear it clear as day, thanks to their translators. The two dragons shuffled their wings, surveying the elf curiously. Then the both nodded, humming deeply, which caused Arya to smile.

"I'm glad you've recovered," Eragon said, finally finding words again. "We didn't know if you would live or not."

"That is why I came here today," Arya said, facing him. Her voice was rich, accented, and exotic. Though she spoke clearly, there was a hint of a trill, as if she were just about ready to break into song. "I owe you and Blastbone a debt that must be repaid. You both saved my life, and Char's. That can never be forgotten."

"It was because of Eragon that we were able to find and rescue you," Blaster said.

"Ho—How did you come to be in Gil'ead?" Eragon asked, fumbling over his words.

Pain descended on Arya's face. She looked away and into the distance. "Let us walk." They walked down from the knoll and meandered back towards Farthen Dûr. They respected Arya's silence as they walked, and no one but Char, in her clunky combat boots, made any noise. Finally, Arya lifted her head and said, with the grace of her kind, "Ajihad and Brom told me you two were present when Saphira's and Sara's eggs appeared."

"Yup," Blaster said. Eragon muttered a "Yes." The two of them thought of the distance that the eggs had teleported between the Spine and Du Weldenvarden. Such an attempt was borderline deadly.

"Then know this:" Arya said, her words heavy, "at the moment you two first beheld them, Char and I were captured by Durza." Her words were full of bitterness and grief. "It was he who led the Urgals that ambushed me and slew my companions, Faolin and Glenwing. Somehow, he knew where to wait for us—we had no warning. Char appeared with the other egg just prior to our capture. We were drugged and transported to Gil'ead. There, Durza was charged by Galbatorix to learn where we had sent the eggs and all we knew of Ellesméra."

She stared ahead icily, her jaw clenched. "He tried for half-a-year without success. His methods were…harsh to say the least. I heard that Char was close to death several times in the week before you saved us. When torture failed, he ordered his soldiers to use us as they would. Fortunately, we still had the strength to nudge their minds and make them incapable. At last, Galbatorix ordered that we were to be brought to Urû'baen. Dread filled the two of us when we learned this, as we were both weak in both mind and body, and therefore had no strength left to resist him. If it weren't for you two, we would have stood before Galbatorix in a couple weeks time."

Just the thought of what could have happened was enough to cause Eragon and Blaster to shudder. "Why tell us all this?" Eragon asked.

"So that you know what you saved us from," Char said. "Don't ever assume that we've ignored your deeds."

"I wasn't the one who rescued you," Eragon said. "I had visions of you two in my dreams. It was like scrying—and I was able to scry the two of you later—but it was always while I was asleep. Blaster was the one who actually rescued you two."

"Then I thank you, Blaster, for your deed," Arya said. "However, Eragon, you think too lowly of yourself. Your deeds in noticing us were just as important. If not for you, I would have gone unnoticed." She pursed her lips. "As for what you did, I can tell you that there were times when I felt as if another presence was watching me, but I was often confused and feverish."

"I never noticed anything," Char added. "Of course, I was out of it more than Arya."

"But, I've never heard of anyone, be it in lore or legend, being able to scry in their sleep," Arya finished.

The two men bowed. "So," Blaster said. "What will you do now—return to Ellesméra?"

"Not yet," Arya replied. "There is much that must be done here. I cannot abandon the Varden—Ajihad needs my help. I've seen you tested in both arms and magic today, Blaster, and Brom has shown me your skills in the same, Eragon. Brom has taught you well. I will confer with him as you are ready to proceed in your training."

"You mean for us to go to Ellesméra?" Eragon asked.

"Yes."

Eragon felt a flash of irritation. Blaster knew he was worried that neither Riders nor dragons had any say in the matter. "When?" Eragon asked.

"That has yet to be decided, but not for some weeks."

"I'm allowed to come too, right?" Char asked.

"I am not entirely sure, but I believe you to be able to come," Arya replied. "You returned Saranya's egg."

Eragon thought for a moment, got asked something by Saphira, and, voicing the question, asked, "What is it the Twins wanted Blaster to do?"

"Summon the essence of silver?" Blaster asked. He grumbled in annoyance. "Something they probably couldn't accomplish, and definitely not something any _competent_ magic user could do. I know that, in my ancient language, it is possible to say the name of the object in question and summon its true form. It took me several years to get it, and both discipline and patience, but the reward is complete control over the object." He paused. "Arya, is it the same in this ancient language?"

"Yes," Arya said. "And that is why one's true name is always kept hidden, for if it were known by any with evil in their hearts, they could dominate you utterly."

Eragon, his hand in his pocket, suddenly thought of Brom's ring. "Oh man, I forgot, I have to give back Brom's ring."

"Is that the ring with that weird symbol?" Blaster asked, to which Eragon nodded. "Well, I don't mean to pry, but what does that symbol stand for, Arya? I saw that same symbol tattooed on your shoulder when I was healing your wounds."

"You have a ring with the yawë on it?" she asked sharply.

"Yeah," Eragon replied. "Like I said, it's Brom's and I forgot to give it back to him."

He held out the ring, and Arya examined the sapphire. Finally, she said, "This is a token given only to the most valued of elf-friends—so valued, in fact, that it has not been used for centuries. Or so I thought. I never knew that Queen Islanzadí thinks so highly of Brom."

"Perhaps I should return it with great haste," Eragon said.

"No," Arya replied. "It is not necessary. If he were able to come with us to Ellesméra, you can give it to him then. But, if he isn't able to join us, ask him to keep it. It will give you protection if you meet my people by chance, and it may help you gain favor with the queen." She paused. "Do not tell anyone of my tattoo. It shouldn't be revealed."

"You have my word," Blaster replied, speaking in the ancient language, but hearing English.

* * *

><p><strong>The girls are alright, but what of Murtagh? Why is Arya self-concious on her tattoo? How is it that the aliens are much faster with their sword swings than they let on? (Answer is in the question: they are "aliens" with enhanced physical speed. They just don't use it unless absolutely necessary.) The answers to the other two coming soon as we near the story finale of <em>Free Riders<em>.  
><strong>


	50. Ch49: A Volcanic Issue

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 49: A Volcanic Issue

After talking with Arya, the five non-elves wandered through Farthen Dûr, conversing with the dragons. Since Char didn't have a dragon to speak with, Sara, albeit reluctantly, allowed Char to speak with her like Blaster could. Soon, everyone's thoughts turned to Murtagh, who was leaving momentarily. They all had lunch in a corner of the kitchens, then went over to the southern entrance to Tronjheim.

Sitting at the entrance, his warhorse Tornac loaded with enough supplies to get him to Surda, was Murtagh. His bow and sword were with him but properly secured. He looked up from checking Tornac's hooves, and exclaimed, "You made it!"

"Of course," Blaster said.

"Nice to see you again," Eragon added. Char merely nodded.

"I am surprised," Blaster said. "I would have thought that you would have been driven out of here much sooner than now, and with less supplies than you currently have."

"I expected the same thing," Murtagh replied. "But, Brom put a spell on me that made it so that, so long as I stay out of the dwarven realm, then I will forget everything about this place. Even if I do enter this place again, but forcibly under someone else, I will not be able to recall exactly where Tronjheim is."

"Aren't you upset that you have to leave?" Eragon asked.

"No, it is for the better," Murtagh said. "The people here wouldn't be at ease around me, knowing my true identity, and you know that there will be people who wouldn't limit themselves to harsh looks or words. So, I will leave and take temptation away from them. But enough about me. I want to know what's happened with you guys before I leave. The last bit of knowledge I can hold before I forget all about this place."

They told him about the past few days, including the encounter with the Twins in the library and some of the vague details of the meeting with Arya. Murtagh reflected on this for a moment before saying, "I suspect that Arya is more important to all of us than we all know. Consider what you've learned about her: powerful in magic, as I am sure she would have summoned silver's essence if Blaster hadn't, a master of the sword, if she is to be believed, and, most importantly, she was chosen to guard both Saphira's and Sara's eggs until it somehow swapped hands. Even among elves, she cannot be ordinary."

"Agreed," Blaster said.

"Well, I should get going if I am to make it to Surda by late tomorrow," Murtagh said.

"Then, farewell, my friend," Blaster said. "May your travels be uneventful."

"Have a safe journey," Eragon added.

"Don't forget about us too much," Char added, jokingly. Murtagh stifled a laugh, then climbed on to Tornac.

"If I ever meet you again, I hope it is on the same side," Murtagh said. With a final wave, he lightly spurred Tornac and trotted out of Tronjehim.

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

Blaster woke from his meditations with a start, forgetting that Char was sleeping at his side. She roused herself a few seconds later. Eragon was heard in his cave, shouting in pain from something that Saphira had done to him. Sara too was awake and looking out of the cave. Isidar Mithrim glittered there with a thousand different colors, illuminated by its girdle of lanterns.

At the entrance of the cave stood an agitated dwarf, wringing his hands. "You must come, Argetlamar! Great trouble—Ajihad summons you. There is no time!"

"What's wrong?" Eragon asked.

The dwarf merely shook his head, his beard wagging. "Go, you must! Carkna bragha! Now!"

Blaster didn't have enough time to activate his translator and try to translate the dwarven language, but if the dwarf said "Great trouble", then it was all too clear. He belted on Cratona, holstered his pistols, shouldered his bow and arrows, and readied the saddle. _So much for a good night's sleep_, Sara muttered, crouching low to allow Blaster and Char on her back. Eragon yawned loudly as both Saphira and Sara launched from the cave.

Orik was waiting for them with a grim expression when they landed. "Come, the others are waiting," he said quickly. He led them through Tronjheim to Ajihad's study. Along the way, Eragon plied him for questions, but Orik kept saying, "I don't know enough myself—wait until you hear Ajihad."

The large doors to the study were opened by a pair of burly guards. Ajihad stood behind his desk, bleakly inspecting the map. Arya, Brom, and a man with wiry arms were there as well. Ajihad looked up when they entered. "Good, you're here. Meet Jörmundur, my second in command."

They acknowledged each other, then turned their attention to Ajihad. "I roused the eight of you because we are all in grave danger. About half an hour ago, Murtagh returned with a dwarf out of an abandoned tunnel under Tronjheim. The dwarf was bleeding and nearly incoherent, but he had enough sense left to tell the dwarves what was pursuing him: an army of Urgals, maybe a day's march from here."

Shocked silence filled the study, first from the fact that Murtagh was back, and secondly that they had Urgals breathing down their backs. Then Jörmundur swore explosively and began asking questions the same time Orik did. Arya, Brom, Blaster, and Char remained silent. Ajihad raised his hands. "Quiet! There is more. The Urgals aren't approaching _over_ land, but _under_ it. They're in the tunnels…we're going to be attacked from below."

Blaster shouted over the din that followed. "Why didn't we know about this sooner? How did the Urgals find the tunnels in the first place?"

"We're lucky to know about it this early," Orik bellowed, silencing everyone else. "There are hundreds of tunnels throughout the Beor Mountains, uninhabited since the day they were mined. The only dwarves that go in them are eccentrics who don't want contact with anyone. We could have easily received no warning at all."

Ajihad pointed at the map, and both Eragon and Blaster moved closer. The map depicted the southern half of Alagaësia, but, unlike the map Jeod gave to Brom, it showed the entirety of the Beors in detail. Ajihad's finger rested on the section where the Beors met with Surda's eastern border. "This," he said, "is where the dwarf claimed to have come from."

"Orthíad," Orik exclaimed. At Jörmundur's puzzled inquiry, he added, "It's an ancient dwelling of ours that was deserted when Tronjheim was completed. During its time it was the greatest of our cities. But on one's live there for centuries."

"And it's old enough for some of the tunnels to have collapsed," Brom said. "It is possible that it was discovered from the surface."

"I suspect Orthíad is now being called Ithrö Zhâda," Ajihad said. "That's where the Urgal column that was chasing Blaster and Sara was supposed to go, and I am sure it's where the Urgals have been migrating all year. From Ithrö Zhâda, they can travel anywhere they want in the Beor Mountains. They have the power to destroy both the Varden and the dwarves."

Blaster bent over the map, as did Jörmundur. "Do you know how many Urgals there are?" Blaster asked. "Are they being augmented by Galbatorix's troops? Unless we know that, we cannot plan an effective defense."

Ajihad replied unhappily, "We're unsure about both those things, yet our survival rests on that last question. If Galbatorix has augmented the Urgal's ranks with his own men, we don't stand a chance. But, if he hasn't because he still doesn't wish for his alliance with the Urgals revealed, or for some other reason, it is possible we can win. Neither Orrin nor the elves can help us at this late hour. Even so, I've sent trusted runners to both of them with news of our plight. At the very least, they won't be caught by surprise if we fall."

He drew a hand across his coal-black brow. "I've already talked with Hrothgar, and we've decided on a course of action. Our only hope is to contain the Urgals in three of the larger tunnels and channel them into Farthen Dûr so they don't swarm inside Tronjheim like locusts.

"I need you, Eragon, Arya, Brom, and Blaster, to help the dwarves collapse extraneous tunnels. The job is too big for normal means. Two groups of dwarves are already working on it: one outside Tronjheim, the other beneath it. Eragon, you and Brom will work with the group outside. Arya and Blaster, you'll be with the one underground; Orik will guide you to them."

"Why not collapse all the tunnels instead of leaving the large ones untouched?" Eragon asked.

"Because," Orik said, "that would force the Urgals to clear away the rubble, and they might decide to go in a direction we don't want them to. Plus, if we cut ourselves off, they could attack other dwarf cities—which we wouldn't be able to assist in time."

"There is also another reason," Ajihad said. "Hrothgar warned me that Tronjheim lies on such a dense network of tunnels that if too many are weakened, sections of the city will sink into the ground under their own weight. We cannot risk that."

Jörmundur listened intently, then asked, "So there won't be any fighting inside Tronjheim? You said the Urgals would be channeled outside the city, into Farthen Dûr."

"Correct," Ajihad said quickly. "We cannot defend Tronjheim's entire perimeter because we don't have enough forces for it. So we're going to seal all the passageways and gates leading into it. That will force the Urgals out onto the flats surrounding Tronjheim, where there's plenty of maneuvering room for our armies. Since the Urgals have access to the tunnels, we cannot risk an extended battle. As long as they are here, we will be in constant danger of them quarrying through Tronjheim's floor. If that happens, we'll be trapped, attacked from both inside and out. We have to prevent the Urgals from taking Tronjheim. If they secure it, it's doubtful we will have the strength to roust them."

"And what of our families?" Jörmundur asked. "I will not see my wife and son murdered by Urgals."

The lines on Ajihad's face deepended. "All the women and children are being evacuated to the surrounding valleys. If we are defeated, they have guides who will take them to Surda. That's all I can do, under the circumstances."

Jömundur struggled to hide his relief as he asked, "Sir, is Nasuada going as well?"

"She is not pleased, but yes," Ajihad said. "The Urgals will arrive in a matter of hours. We know their numbers are great, but we _must_ hold Farthen Dûr. Failure will mean the dwarves' downfall, death to the Varden, and the eventual defeat for Surda and the elves. This is one battle we cannot lose. Now go and complete your tasks. Jörmundur, ready the men to fight."

* * *

><p><strong>With the Urgals on their doorstep, is it possible to survive this? Will Blaster be called to duty for his rank? It won't be long before we get to the final chapter. The epic 5-part finale continues...<br>**


	51. Ch50: The Final Countdown

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Feel free to play Europe's "The Final Countdown" as it is the basis for this chapter's title. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 50: The Final Countdown

The group all left the study and scattered: Jörmundur to the barracks, Eragon, Saphira, Sara (with Blaster's permission to help) and Brom down one of Tronjheim's four main halls, and Orik, Arya, Blaster, and Char down the stairs leading underground. Despite the early hour, the city-mountain swarmed like an anthill. People were running, shouting messages, and carrying bundles of belongings.

As Blaster descended with the others in his group, he remembered that they were fighting against tons of enemies. True, he had killed a thousand weak underlings, but fighting beings designed to kill was something entirely different. Thankfully for him, he knew that, based on the twenty minute fight he and Char had yesterday, the two of them could tackle quite a bit. Then the fact that they would be, initially, armorless hit Blaster just a few seconds before they reached the tunnels.

"Over here," Orik said. "Arya and Char, you'll be with this group. Blaster, follow me to the other group." Blaster followed Orik to a tunnel where a small group of dwarves were picking at the rock. Orik explained, in dwarvish, what Blaster was there to do. "He says they've got a tunnel about five yards directly below us."

"Tell them to clear the area," Blaster said, digging into his bag of grenades. Orik gave the order and the dwarves pulled back. Taking some C-4 in some cones out of his bag, he used magic to find the cracks they were trying to exploit and placed the shape-charges on the weaknesses where he believed they would do the most damage. As soon as the charges were in place, he backed off further than the dwarves.

"Where are you going?" Orik asked.

"Clear this tunnel, now," Blaster ordered. Orik did that, but he was getting as impatient as the other dwarves.

"What are you planning?" Orik demanded. Blaster slipped behind a wall at an intersection of tunnels. Orik reluctantly did the same. "We are trying to collapse the tunnels!"

"That's what I'm doing," Blaster said, tapping away at his wrist computer. "Those things I just place are explosions waiting to happen. All they need is a spark." He tapped one button, then put his hands to his mouth. "Clear the area! Fire in the hole! Fire in the hole! Fire in the hole!" He went back to his wrist computer. "You may want to cover your ears."

With just a tap, the charges exploded with a large boom, kicking up dust and caused the ground to shake for a fraction of a second. The dwarves were doing everything they could to keep from panicking. Blaster took one look around the corner to find a hole about seven yards across, the ground sliding inwards. Blaster heard the telltale signs of another explosion a few seconds later, thinking that Char had the same idea he had.

"All clear," Blaster shouted. He was rushed to the next area and, with a bit more difficulty, placed his charges and blew another tunnel. He continued, occasionally just using magic since he only had a limited supply of explosives, and he didn't fell like calling up Alice for more. After a few hours, he had collapsed over a dozen tunnels under Tronjehim. Orik ordered them all back up to the surface to prepare for battle.

Once in Tronjheim's center, Char approached, wearing her pistols, sword, a crossbow with bolts, and a sniper rifle on her back. The only thing different about her was that she was wearing a grey pauldron on her left shoulder with a blue gem on the inside. She smiled and held out a blue pauldron with a red gem to Blaster.

"I got in contact with Alice," Char said. "Managed to dig these out of storage and send them to us."

"Thanks," Blaster said. He looked at Char as she stood there, with most of her weapons on her. "You look like you're ready for battle."

"And you aren't?" she retorted, looking at Blaster's armaments. He strapped the pauldron to his arm. "You almost look like you're ready for war. Just put you behind an artillery cannon, and you'll be all set."

"My biggest fear is getting put in charge of a company of soldiers," he admitted. "Most Generals end up behind the front lines, directing forces from afar."

"But you're not like 'Most Generals,' are you?"

"True."

Blaster was interrupted by columns of dwarven soldiers rattling through Tronjheim. Each one had burnished steel hauberks that hung to their knees, and held thick round shields on their left arms, each one stamped with the crests of their clan. At their waists were sheathed at their waists since they wielded either mattocks or war axes in their right hands. Their legs were covered in extra-fine mail, brass-studded boots adorned their feet, and iron caps on their heads. Orik waved from the column and joined them.

"You are all done here," Orik said as he approached. "There are no more tunnels to collapse. Your methods were…intriguing to say the least." He motioned to one of two groups of dwarves carrying piles of plate armor. Sara joined them, having finished helping Brom.

_There were a lot of tunnels to collapse_, Sara said. _I am getting hungry from all the strength I lent to Brom_.

"We will need food before this battle," Blaster said.

"Of course," Orik said. "But first, a gift from Hrothgar." He picked up a section of the plate armor and handed it to Blaster. It was polished metal, intricately wrought with engravings and golden filigree. In places, it was easily an inch thick and very heavy. Blaster couldn't imagine any man that could fight under such weight, not that it mattered because there were too many pieces to fit for one man. "They've lain so long among our other treasures that they were almost forgotten. They were forged in another age, before the fall of the Riders."

"It's obviously not made for man, nor dwarf," Blaster deduced.

"It's dragon armor," Orik explained. "You didn't think dragons went into battle unprotected, did you? Complete sets like these two are rare because they took so long to make and because dragons were always growing. Still, Saphira and Sara aren't too big yet, to they should fit them reasonably well."

_Oooh, dragon armor,_ Sara said. She nosed a piece. _Let's try it on_.

With some work, Blaster and Char helped Sara into her armor. After some struggling, they stepped back to admire their work. Sara's entire neck, except for the spikes along its ridge, was covered in triangular scales of overlapping plates, with her chest and belly protected by the heaviest plates and her tail protected by the lightest ones. Her back and legs were encased completely, though her wings were left bare. A single molded plate lay atop her head, leaving her lower jaw free to bite and snap.

Sara arched her neck experimentally, causing the armor to flex smoothly with her movements. _This will slow me down a bit, but it'll help stop the arrows. How do I look?_

_Intimidating,_ Blaster said, truthfully. It pleased her. Orik lifted some of the remaining pieces from the ground.

"I brought you some armor as well, Blaster, though it took a bit of searching to find your size," Orik said. "We rarely forge arms for men or elves. I don't know who this was made for, but it has been used slightly and should serve you well."

"I thank you, Orik," Blaster said. "And I extend my thanks and gratitude toward Hrothgar as well. However, for this gift, I must respectfully decline. Not because I feel like going into battle unarmored, but because I have my own armor."

"You do?" Orik asked. "You didn't have it when you entered, did you?"

"Yes," Char lied. "It was in my bag. This, is our armor." She pointed to the pauldron on her shoulder.

"That little bit of armor will not do you much good," Orik said.

"This little bit of armor is more than what you believe it to be," Blaster said. Taking his right hand, he slapped the jewel of the pauldron, causing it to flash for a second. Armor began to emerge from the pauldron down his left arm in large segments, much larger than the pauldron. As soon as his left arm was encased in the magical armor, it started working on his chest, working down the breastplate, down to plate legs, all the same colored blue. His right arm was covered next, followed by his back. His helmet was last, covering his entire face, including his eyes in a light-blue visor, with two short fins extending straight up roughly to the top of the helmet.

Orik looked amazed at the armor as Blaster began to flex and walk. "How is that possible?" he asked as Blaster twisted, bent, knelt, and back-flipped without any issues with mobility.

"A magical armor that Char and I came up with," Blaster said in a slightly muffled voice, knowing it was a partial lie. They had gotten their armor as a gift in one universe, then augmented it with materials in theirs. "It is just as strong, if not stronger than steel, resistant to almost anything, and it doesn't even hamper my mobility."

"How can you even see out of that helmet?" Orik asked.

"The visor is tinted," Blaster replied. "I can see out, but no one can see in. Char has one too. It's efficient, effective, and will never rust or age. At least, that's what I was told." He paused as his helmet retracted. "Could you set the other set aside for me, just in case?"

"I will," Orik said. "Now come, we must hurry, else we'll be sealed in."

The four of them ran out, the sound of metal hitting itself echoing through the hallway. They ran out into the flats around Tronjheim, with the women and children racing out with their supplies, clothing, and a few belongings. A small group of warriors accompanied them, mostly made up of boys and old men. At the base of Tronjheim, however was where the Varden were assembling their armies into three battalions. Each battalion bore the Varden's standard: a white dragon holding a rose above a downward-pointing sword on a purple field.

The men were silent, ironfisted. Hair hung loosely under their helmets. Many warriors had only a sword and a shield, but there were several ranks of spearmen and pikemen. Archers were at the rear, testing their bowstrings. Orik excused himself to go visit with Eragon and give him the other set of dragon armor.

Hundreds of lanterns were fixed to the tops of poles stuck into the ground, providing enough light to be mistaken as the evening sun. Flames blazed atop of three tunnels that were supposed to funnel the Urgals inside, where huge cauldrons of pitch heating over them. It unnerved Blaster since he knew there were better ways for someone to die than that. Ahead of the battalions were rows of sharpened saplings, pounded into the ground to form a pointy barrier between the upcoming Urgals and the Varden. Men were digging trenches between the saplings. Far behind them, the archer's protective barrier was being erected. Blaster helped set the saplings in the trenches, while Sara helped dig the next trench. Char left to help build the archer's barrier, but returned with a wineskin, passing it around to the other soldiers.

"Ah, Char, Blaster, I see that Sara has been outfitted," Ajihad shouted. He approached, armed for battle with an ivory-handled sword and a breastplate. "Your armor is…interesting, to say the least, Blaster, and you don't seem to have any, Charlotte."

"I prefer to stay back and kill my enemies from afar," Char said. "But, all I need to do is press this blue jewel on my pauldron, and my armor will cover me as Blaster's armor covers him. It's…complicated, but we are still experimenting with armor that hides within itself magically."

"I see," Ajihad said. He leaned on his sword for a few seconds. "One of the Twins is staying in Tronjheim once it is sealed. He's going to watch the battle from the dragonhold and relay information through his brother to me. I am aware you can speak with your mind. I need you to tell the Twins anything you see that is unusual. Also, I'll relay orders to you through them. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," Blaster said. He wasn't thrilled with the idea, but he knew he could keep the Twins out of the most important parts of his mind with ease.

"You are no foot soldier or horseman, nor any other type of warrior I am used to commanding," Ajihad continued. "Battle may prove differently, but I would advise that you and Sara stay on the ground. It is safer there, since, in the air, you'll be choice targets for Urgal archers. Will you fight from Sara's back?"

"I may," Blaster said, "but if I feel more comfortable fighting on foot, I will. On Sara, I'll be much too high to kill all but the Kull, which I am sure there are plenty of."

"I'm afraid you're correct," Ajihad said. He pulled his sword from the ground. "The only other bit of advice I can give you is to avoid unnecessary risks. The Varden can ill afford to lose either you or Eragon." Blaster nodded. "Speaking of, I need to see how well he's been outfitted."

Blaster, Char, and Sara joined Ajihad to where Saphira and Eragon were. Like Sara, Saphira was decked out in the silvery dragon armor in all but her wings. Nearby, but not as decked out as Blaster was armor-wise, was Eragon. He had on a shirt of leather-backed mail that fell to his knees, clinking whenever he moved. Zar'roc was belted over it, keeping the mail from swinging. A leather cap, mail coif, and a gold-and-silver helm protected his head, bracers and greaves protected his forearms and shins, and mail-backed gloves protected his hands. A broad shield with an oak tree emblazoned on it protected his left side.

Ajihad looked at Murtagh, wearing another set of armor. Murtagh looked a little nervous, but worry was still present on his face, as if he were wondering if the dwarf he rushed to Tronjheim would survive. Ajihad said the same message to Eragon. Once he was done, Blaster remained with Eragon while Ajihad left to continue inspecting his troops. Eragon took one look at Char and felt as if he couldn't contain himself.

"You will fight?" Eragon asked. It was obvious that he thought Char would be with the rest of the women and children.

"I will," Char said. "And don't tell me it's too dangerous. I've been in battles you wouldn't even begin to imagine. So, don't patronize me. You'll find I'm no distressed damsel in a fight."

Eragon settled down, looking around. He froze when he saw Arya, her bow in her lap, waiting for the battle to start. She caught him staring at her and, knowing what he was going to say, stared him down and said, "Don't even think about it."

"Why?" Eragon asked.

"Because," Arya said, "I was given the task of protecting Saphira's and Sara's eggs. A task which I failed. My breoal is dishonored and would be further shamed if I did not guard you, Blaster, Saphira, and Sara upon this field of battle. You forget that I am stronger with magic than any here, including you, but maybe excluding Blaster. If the Shade does come, who but us can defeat him? Who else has that right?"

"Good point," Eragon said, weighing the facts. "Just stay safe." He added, in desperation, "Wiol pömnuria ilian." For my happiness, which Blaster heard instead of the ancient language.

Arya turned away, uneasy, with the fringe of her hair obscuring her face. She ran her hand along her polished bow, and muttered, "It is my wyrd to be here. The debt must be paid."

"Kai fertuna drah hugan hus," Blaster said. Before he got weird looks, he added, "May good fortune wash over us."

Everyone slunk into a brooding silence, waiting for the battle to begin.

* * *

><p><strong>And so the waiting begins. Next up, the Battle for Farthen Dur. Stay tuned, the 5-part finale continues...<br>**


	52. Ch51: The Battle for Farthen Dur

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 51: The Battle for Farthen Dûr

There was nothing to do but wait for the Urgal army to approach. Orik took a whet stone and honed his blade, checking it every so often to ensure it was sharp enough for him. Char said something about moving to the archer's stand to set up her sniper rifle before the Urgals got there and walked away. With a gauntleted hand, Blaster sat down and began to think, holding his chin in thought. When that didn't help ease his mind, he went to Sara's saddle bags and made sure that his AK was at the ready when he needed it.

Several times, messengers rushed through the encampment, causing warriors to surge to their feet, only to be false alarms. The stress levels were increasing with each passing minute, but the worst part was the lack of a breeze. The air became warm, stifling, and smoke-filled, but they kept waiting.

Slowly, the soldiers began to fall asleep, resting for what some thought would be their last time before the inescapable rest of death fell upon them. Eragon, Murtagh, and Orik fell asleep quickly. Blaster, however, rested in his meditative sleep. He searched for the energies of the Urgals and waited for them to come within range.

He felt them minutes before a scout ran from one of the tunnels leading into Farthen Dûr. Char did too, so she adjusted her location and readied her rifle. Arya woke Eragon since the shouts from the scout roused Murtagh and Orik. After a few minutes of watching the tunnels, Eragon and Murtagh mounted up. Then, a man shouted, "I hear them!"

No one breathed nor moved a muscle as the Urgal shouts erupted from the tunnels. A command was given, and the boiling pitch was dumped into the mouth of the tunnel. Urgals began shouting and flailing in pain. A torch was dropped and the pitch turned into an orange conflagration, engulfing those unwise enough to run away. The other two tunnels looked exactly the same. Blaster retrieved his bow as Eragon sheathed Zar'roc and strung his bow. Both of them were uneasy by the form of death they had just witnessed.

More Urgals tamped the pitch down and climbed out of the tunnels, trampling their burned brethren. They clumped together creating a solid wall against the men and dwarves. Behind the barricade Orik helped build, the first line of archers, including Char, fired their arrows. Blaster added his to the mix, as did Eragon and Arya. Only four arrows were different from the rest, and two of them were radically different.

The Urgal line wavered, threatening to break, but they covered themselves with their shields and weathered the attack. The only two arrows to do major damage were the ones Char and Blaster fired, as they exploded, killing anything within a ten-foot radius. Another attack of arrows took out another dozen Urgals, but the regular arrows were not able to get through. Again, Blaster fired, but this time, as soon as the arrow was away, he dug into his explosives bag, pulled out a grenade, and lobbed it over the wall and into the midst of the Urgals. Two dozen more Urgals met their end that way.

Char moved to her sniper rifle. There were obviously too many for her to kill with that weapon, but she started picking off Urgals one by one. The line wavered again, but didn't break. Blaster looked on and saw that, out of all the warriors against them, not a single one was a soldier directly under Galbatorix. The odds were in their favor with that. What wasn't in their favor was that the Urgals were still very numerous, with tattered and sullen standards depicting which clan they were from on them. A war horn sounded and the Urgals charged en masse with savage cries.

The row of stakes held as the Urgals ran against them, in an attempt to cover them and make it easier for the rest of the Urgals to advance without killing themselves. A cloud of black arrows shot over the barrier at the crouched defenders. Eragon ducked behind his shield, Saphira and Sara covered their heads, but Blaster merely put his helmet back on. The arrows rattled harmlessly against the dragon armor and that of Blaster.

The Urgal horde milled with confusion, foiled by the pickets at the moment as the Varden regrouped. There was a pause, then a war cry as the Urgals surged forward again. This time, momentum carried them through the stakes, where lines of pikemen jabbed at them frantically in an attempt to repel them. They held, but only briefly as the tide of Urgals overwhelmed them.

Saphira jumped into the fray as the two forces collided for the first time. Blaster ran forward, his sword drawn. As he came upon his first Urgal, a Kull, his mind shut everything else out, and, in a matter of a handful of seconds, planned his attack.

_Their advantage: Their size with respect to their army and physical capabilities,_ he thought. _Our advantage: Two Riders and two aliens, with one overlapping with each._ In his mind, he charged the Urgal who attempted to bring his sword down. _Block downward enemy strike. Use momentum to counter._ The mind Blaster blocked the sword to the right and returned with a strike to the neck. _Decapitation equals instant death._ The blade of Cratona easily slices through the Kull's neck. _Deflect enemy blow, duck under sword swing._ Another Urgal runs up and swings at Blaster, only for him to use Cratona to deflect it to the left. He ducks and a Varden sword cuts into and mortally wounds the Urgal. _Draw pistol. Fire at enemy attempting a stealth attack on an ally_. Murtagh is saved by Blaster drawing his pistol and firing twice, killing the Urgal attempting to stab him in the back. _Duck under dragon's attack._ Both Saphira and Sara jab their necks into the fray, tearing through Urgals. Eragon swings at an Urgal attempting to weaken Saphira's wings. Blaster continued this thought for another few minutes in his mind's battle time. The result was that at least a hundred Urgals met their end either directly or indirectly thanks to his actions.

When Blaster came out of his thoughts, he charged at the Kull in front if him, blocking the Urgal's sword to the right as it brought the sword down. He then countered and decapitated the Urgal in the same swing. He blocked another Urgal sword and ducked to allow a Varden soldier to mortally wound the enemy. He drew his pistol and saved Murtagh from getting back-stabbed, then ducked as both Saphira and Sara jumped over him, killing many Urgals. Eragon killed an Urgal attempting to crush Saphira's wings, and Sara would never let any Urgal near her to even attempt it.

Again, Blaster rushed into the fray, slicing by several Urgals with such speed that he hit them 21 times before they could even react. Almost two dozen Urgals met their end in the attack, and Blaster was smack dab in the middle of a group of Urgals. Char emerged from the air, jumping into the fray in her grey armor. The two stood back to back, swords at the ready. Just as the circle of Urgals ran in to attack, Blaster and Char lashed out, their blades a blur of blue and grey. Dozens of Urgal bodies fell to the ground. As soon as they had a big enough body count, they forged their way through the armies, Blaster towards Sara, who was becoming overwhelmed, Char to help out Murtagh and Orik.

Sara was caught by a dozen Urgals, each with spears. Her wings had been pricked, but not badly. Whenever she advanced with her neck, they bunched together and jabbed at her eyes. When she tried to sweep the spears away with her talons, the Urgals jumped back, out of her reach. The fact that she was being attacked in such a manner was enough to make Blaster's blood boil. From his bag, he pulled a grenade, pulled the pin, and tossed it at the feet of the twelve spearmen as they retreated from another swipe. One of them shouted for them to advance again when the grenade went off, killing all twelve and giving Sara a well-needed reprieve.

Blaster swung into the saddle and, with unspoken consent, Sara took flight in hopes of leaving the madness of the battle, if only for a few moments. From here, Blaster dropped more grenades on the hordes of Urgals. From this high up, even as prime targets for the archers, Blaster was able to make sure Sara was out of range.

_Bank left 2-0 degrees_, Blaster ordered. _We're going to pull a u-ie and come at their archers from behind._

Saphira, who had joined them in the air, and just as bloodied up as Sara, did the same as Sara when she came up behind the archers, low and fast. Seven Urgals were disemboweled and another four decapitated before the two dragons and their Riders retreated out of the range of the arrows. They continued on different flanks, taking Urgals by surprise since they were coming in low and fast, making their next attack unpredictable. Eragon ran out of arrows quickly when Saphira was in the air, but Blaster had whipped out his AK and was shooting over Sara's side whenever he had the chance to.

The battle continued to rage below them, with three separate fights at each of the open tunnels. The Urgals were at a disadvantage by having to disperse their forces and try to get their army out of the tunnels all at once. However, the massive amount of Urgals were driving the Varden back towards Tronjheim slowly. There didn't seem to be an end to the Urgal forces.

Remembering Ajihad's orders, Blaster contacted one of the Twins and started relaying information. He had realized that the Urgals were organizing themselves around several clan standards, but the clans paid no attention to each other as if receiving orders from elsewhere. That general was no where to be seen. As soon as he relayed the information, he received orders, which were smooth but brief.

_You are ordered to assist Arya,_ one of the Twins said. _The fight goes badly for her. Also, Ajihad is aware of your status as General and wants you to assume command of a small battalion on the east side, just before the line._

_Acknowledged,_ Blaster groaned. He cut the connection. _Sara, bank to vector 1-4-0. Let's give some assistance._

Eragon and Blaster banked away from each other, Saphira flying towards Hrothgar, who was also in need of aid. As Sara flew overhead, she and Blaster looked down at Arya as she swung her sword with swings that were at least on par with what Blaster and Char exhibited during their sparring match the previous day. The men behind her had dwarves mixed in and killing any Urgals who were able to get by Arya. Once a clearing large enough for them to land opened up, Blaster made his move.

The Urgals were shaken as the young dragon landed, facing them. The distraction allowed the dwarves to advance. While she was protected by dwarves and men on her right flank, her opposite flank was facing the enemy. Blaster sheathed his sword and started weaving his hands in a complex pattern. The Urgals began to charge, but Blaster thrust his hands into the air in a final symbol.

"BOLT!" the alien cried. Lightning forked through the skies, accompanied by a small ball of electricity. Even though the lightning struck in the midst of the fight, not a single ally was hit in the attack. However, most of the Urgals were killed, the rest stunned for long enough for a dwarf or man to kill it. A spear zipped by Arya's ear, seemingly diverting in mid-air harmlessly into a trench nearby.

Arya herself wasn't bad either, given the fact she was still recuperating from the poison. Even though she may have been a little weaker than her norm, every swish of her blade came in contact with either blade, shield, or flesh and bone. She was able to jump up and over a Kull, slicing once to decapitate the Urgal Elite.

Another Kull was about to swing its massive battleaxe in hopes of killing Arya in retaliation for her recent kill, but he was skewered by a blade that poked out of his chest. Angela appeared behind the Kull as he fell over. Her armor was outlandish, flanged, and enameled black and green, as well as a long red cape. In her hands was a strange two-handed weapon that was just a long wooden shaft with a sword blade attached to each end. It reminded Blaster of a similar dual-bladed weapon, but he was unable to place where he remembered seeing it. Angela winked mischievously and dashed away, spinning her staff-sword like a dervish. Solembum was close behind her in his shaggy-haired boy form. He held a small black dagger, and his sharp teeth were bared in a feral snarl.

Blaster slowly exhausted all his other magic, using his sword as a wand in one spell to kill enemies in a green flash of light, then pointing it in the air to call forth more lightning. Just as he sheathed his sword, the Urgals began to advance, but retreated when he started to move his fingers in another complex pattern. This time, his hands thrust forward when he landed on the final symbol, and he shouted "FREEZE!" The resulting ice storm killed another half-dozen Urgals. He aimed another spell at another group of Urgals, killing them instantly by removing their souls from their bodies by summoning what appeared to be the grim reaper. "Ok, men, you are now under my command. I am General Clarkson; Argetlam. Your orders are to hold this line without killing yourselves. If it becomes impossible, kill as many as you can, then fall back and regroup. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, sir!" the men chanted. The dwarves nodded, but only because they were asked to take Blaster's orders as if they were delivered by Hrothgar himself.

The two dragons took to the skies again after their assists, Blaster dropping grenades like bombs, each explosion killing another small group of Urgals. All the battles were going badly, the Riders thought. There were simply too many Urgals to hold back. Blaster kept downing his energy-restoring elixers, but at the rate he was using his magic, it was soon becoming tougher to use some of the higher level spells he knew.

The fight continued for hours, but with each passing minute, the Varden and the dwarves were succumbing to exhaustion while the Urgals remained fresh with reinforcements. Twice, Blaster let his power increase and he stole a sword from a fallen enemy to attack with higher strength, but even using his high-strength super form, there were too many Urgals to kill. Once, Char, who was with him, suggested using the final form available to them, but that would have made the battle a little too easy in Blaster's mind, and the window of opportunity to use that form had already passed.

Just as Blaster and Char killed another Urgal, they felt a presence in the Urgal force. A magical presence, and one that was extremely familiar to them, though more familiar for Char than Blaster. The two looked at each other, knowing what the other was thinking.

Durza was joining the battle.

* * *

><p><strong>(cue dramatic music) With Durza in the battle now, will the Varden survive? Find out next time in this special 5-part finale. <strong>


	53. Ch52: Death Throws

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 52: Death Throws

"I am telling you that, if I got confident and I _lost_ to him, he's dangerous if anyone, especially Eragon, runs into him," Blaster said, having cast a quick healing spell on both him and Char.

"Then why warn me?" Char retorted, cleaving an Urgal in two with her sword. "Warn someone who is more competent than either of us. Warn Arya."

"Good point," Blaster said. As he continued fighting, he extended his reach to find Arya, who was locked in battle against three Urgals at once. _Arya, I have something important that you need to hear, but I don't want those traitorous Twins listening in._

_It had better be important,_ Arya responded. She was almost ready to cast a spell when Blaster interrupted her.

_Char and I sensed the presence of a Shade,_ Blaster replied. _And not just any Shade. I'm talking about the one that imprisoned you for almost half a year._

Though he couldn't hear her, he knew she was silently cursing. She didn't respond immediately, and ended up flying overhead with Eragon and Saphira, the latter having a large dent in the middle of her chest plate. _I've been ordered to help keep the Urgals from tunneling into Tronjheim,_ Arya finally said. _If anything, Durza might be there with them._

_Are the Twins in the dragonhold?_ Blaster asked.

_No,_ Arya responded a few moments later.

_Sho'vahs,_ Blaster muttered. _I'll get back to you._ He cleaved an Urgal in half out of frustration and shot a fireball the size of a basketball at a small group of them, killing them instantly. He searched and found who he was looking for. _Ajihad,_ he said, knowing the leader of the Varden was about to kill a Kull. The momentary distraction was enough to have Ajihad miss decapitating the Kull, but he did manage to cut through the neck, leaving only a few inches of flesh keeping the head attached.

_I am not as learned in this type of communication as the Twins,_ Ajihad said. _Why contact me instead of them?_

_Because they are letting in Urgals and the Shade Durza into Tronjheim as we speak,_ Blaster said. _The one that was supposed to be in the dragonhold is not there, and he just ordered Eragon and Arya to prevent the Urgals from tunneling in. It sounds like a trap to me._

_I would agree,_ Ajihad said. _Do you have proof of this treachery?_

Blaster searched for the twin and found him, taking into account where Durza was. The Shade was almost within the same group that the Twin was in. _I do._ Blaster showed Ajihad what he had seen. Just as he had transferred the information, Brom seemingly appeared out of nowhere and stabbed a Kull in the gut before kicking him down.

"Brom," Char shouted, getting the former Rider's attention. "We have reason to believe that Eragon and Arya are walking into a trap and will fight against a Shade."

"Have you contacted Eragon or Arya?" Brom asked.

"Only Arya," Blaster said. He was in the middle of casting another spell, causing the Urgals to retreat from the spell in fear. They never got out of range as he shouted, "BLAST!" Wind currents and at least one tornado swept up the Urgals, sending them flying and killing more than half of them. Blaster, nearly out of magic, downed one of the energy elixirs Angela had cooked up for him, giving Blaster enough energy to cast some more high-level magic.

"I cannot reach Eragon," Brom said. "I do know where he is, though. He just slid down the trench next to Vol Turin. Arya is trying to remove the damaged segment of armor on Saphira."

Sara roared, as she was surrounded by Urgals on all sides except behind. Blaster cast another quick Bolt spell, killing a good chunk of the enemy, freeing Sara. She charged forward through the empty gap that was made between herself and Blaster.

_My throat feels hot,_ Sara said. A Kull approached ready to strike, but Sara roared. When she did, a jet of white flames erupted from her maw, burning the Kull to a crisp. Blaster smiled.

_Now I see why,_ Blaster replied. He felt some powerful force from within Tronjheim and felt a little uneasy.

"Blaster," Char said, her hand on her helmeted head, "Eragon and Durza have just engaged with each other."

"We must help them," Blaster said.

"We cannot," Brom said. "He will be fine, if what you say is true."

Just as Blaster was about to protest, a Kull seemingly appeared out of nowhere and, with one mighty thrust, stabbed at Brom. The blade hovered for a moment about an inch from the armor, held by an invisible force, before it pierced through Brom's chest. Blaster cast a quick "_Brisingr_!", causing the Kull to erupt into white-hot flames.

Brom fell to the ground, sword still sticking through him. He gasped for breath as Blaster caused his helmet to collapse back into his armor tried in vain to remove the sword and heal the wound, all the while yelling for Brom to stay with him. Brom looked at Blaster and smiled.

"So, this is how the famous Brom the Storyteller meets his end," Brom said, blood beginning to dribble into his beard. "In the midst of battle while trying to protect the innocent."

"Come on," Blaster said, panicking. "I wish to be bored by more of your lessons before I let you go."

"You're not my father," Brom said, suppressing a laugh that turned into a hacking cough.

"But why not allow me to save you?"

"I know you have the power, but it is unavailable to you as we still fight," Brom said. "Your energy is low, and, to be honest, I have lived too long. Everything must die, and I should have when Galbatorix took my Saphira from me. Promise me you will not let the same happen to you." Blaster nodded and promised in the ancient language. "Will you take my blessing, and pass on my blessing to Eragon?"

"I will," Blaster said, on the verge of tears.

"Then I give it to you," Brom breathed. He placed a palm on Blaster's brow, and said, "May the coming years bring you great happiness." When Brom was finished, he asked, "Will you stay with me?"

"Atu ga mude ut," Blaster said. "Until the very end."

"Now, then, to the greatest adventure of all." Brom closed his eyes and, a few seconds later, drew his last breath.

Blaster could feel his power increasing as his sobbing turned to a fury. His ears came to points and his eyes turned an eerie gold. For the first time in this universe, Blaster let the power of Darkness course through his body, letting his anger take over the controls. His eyes glowed red for a fraction of a second before his helmet slid back into place.

"Blaster, be careful out there," Char warned, knowing full well what Blaster was about to do.

Blaster nodded and charged at a small group of Kull. He sliced through two before they even registered that he was there. By then, he was firing black and purple fireballs at them and, though they tried to defend, the fires exploded on contact, singeing skin and hair alike. Blaster charged another group and landed in the midst of them, his sword in the ground. Once the blade made contact with dirt, a shockwave blew away anyone within a 10-foot radius. A Kull approached Blaster from behind, blade raised, but a large, shadowy figure erupted from the ground and threw him back.

The creature solidified into a large, muscular humanoid, with a tail instead of feet. Purple cuffs adorned its wrists and a sash of the same color was where the hips would have been. Claws were on the creature's hands in place of human nails. The creature's eyes were as red as the fires, and thick tendrils of hair came out the back of the head. A symbol was emblazoned on its chest: the Ying-Yang.

"Hello, Shadow," Blaster muttered. The creature merely nodded and dove into the midst of battle, absorbing attacks when it could, and dealing out damage to anyone foolish enough to get within arm's reach. Blaster had been plowing through Urgals to release his pent-up rage, and his guardian, whom he only used in emergencies, was whomping through Urgal soldiers quickly.

Another Urgal approached, slipped by Shadow, and was about to get Blaster in a decapitating blow. Just before the Urgal swung, however, Sara appeared, burning the Urgal to a crisp with one quick blast of fire.

Blaster was about to swing and dismember a Kull, but it was his turn to get interrupted. He felt Durza gain the upper hand in his fight with Eragon, and Arya was not going to be able to get to them in time, even on Saphira and breaking through the Isidar Mithrim. He had to stall the Shade enough to allow Arya to attack. He felt the battle within their minds and, with all the fury he could muster into an attack, nudged at Durza's mind. It was enough to distract him and let Eragon gain the upper hand. His lack of attention to the battle, however, nearly turned fatal when an Urgal that had gotten between his guardian's and his dragon's defenses attacked with a giant war-axe.

He felt the great pain in the side of his head as the flat of the weapon hit his helmet, and he saw the Urgal get power-launched into the air by the giant fist of Shadow as the Guardian defended Blaster like a Big Daddy would to his daughter. With his ears ringing, he decided it best to finish this fight on Saranya's back. And it was good news too, since the Durza-Eragon fight had reached its climax and Blaster was involuntarily tuned in and not paying any attention to what he was doing.

Eragon had Durza on the ropes, which was something seeings how Durza should have been much stronger. Then again, for his first time encountering a Shade, Eragon did seem to be holding much more than his own. He was giving it everything he got. Eragon was, however, too preoccupied with his attack on Durza that he never noticed the Shade as he approached, sword raised. With one swing, Durza had turned the tide again, slicing through Eragon's back.

Blaster felt Eragon struggling to get up, could almost hear Durza gloating, then felt the power from Arya as she burst through Isidar Mithrim, Saphira carrying her while spewing blue flames from her maw. Durza was about to launch an attack and kill Saphira and Arya when Eragon moved suddenly, ignoring the pain in his back. With one mighty thrust, and the shout of "_Brisingr!_" Zar'roc was in the now unfortunate Shade's chest, burning away. To make matters worse for the Shade, Eragon had aimed perfectly at the heart.

Durza clawed at his chest, attempting in vain to pull the sword out of his chest. An unearthly how erupted from the Shade's open mouth as he dropped his own sword to redouble his attempts to extract the lodged sword. Durza's skin turned transparent, showing black smoke and swirling patterns of darkness. One last cry and the Shade split in two, releasing three darkness entities that flew through the walls. One of them, Blaster realized too late, was headed straight for him like a magnet.

The moment the cloud of Darkness hit Blaster, the alien absorbed it involuntarily. The force of the impact came with another force, this time against his mind as the two collided. The force of such an attack was enough to cause Blaster to fall out of his saddle and knocked him out, sending him falling to the ground below.

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><p><strong>Will Eragon and Blaster survive these ordeals? The final chapter up next. <strong>


	54. Ch53: Concluding Terms

Free Riders

Author's Note: _Eragon_ is not mine. Char, Blaster, and Saranya are. Comment as you see fit.

Chapter 53: Concluding Terms

_Snatches of the Shade's memory, as well as that of one of the spirits, kept attacking Blaster's mind. Memories flashed by, usually inflicting a little pain as they passed, simultaneously making it very difficult for Blaster to concentrate on any single, coherent thought. He barely had any idea where the Shade and the spirit ended and where he began, unable to remove the new addition to his mind. But the violent images that Blaster saw was nearly enough to cause his own spirit to split in anguish._

_ A pile of bodies seemed to rise into his vision…numerous innocents who had been slaughtered by the Shade's orders. Corpses clouded his vision, occasionally an entire village of them, taken from the world by sword or magic. Carnage surrounded him, making it impossible to escape. He felt like he was a candle in the wind, wavering until it was snuffed. Just like his own personal nightmare nearly 13 years ago, he couldn't escape from himself, so he prayed for his life, for someone to help him._

Keep trying, Rider,_ a voice said, sinister in tone. The spirit that Blaster absorbed finally began talking. _You will never be able to help yourself, thanks to me. Your mind is mine, and you will submit to me.

_Out of the darkness, a cluster of his own memories burst forth. Finding the egg and helping Eragon. Further back, knocking back a curse hurled at him by an "all-powerful" Dark Lord. Further still, memories of sealing Zeon, King of the Devils alongside a young man named Bowie, a strange, suppressed thought of helping out a purple and yellow dragon fight villains who attempted to take over the Dragon Realms. Further back, Xehanort's downfall, not once, but twice. And, furthest of all, the image of his friends as they all stood before a young woman, being Knighted on a strange world and receiving their inheritance: A massive, small-city space vessel. Most importantly, his friends faces appeared._

You think you can call your friends while I have you trapped in your own mind? _The spirit said. Blaster battled with the spirit, still in the form of a black cloud of smoke, on a stained-glass platform he knew was there from all those years ago with Sora. The platform depicted himself and tons of his friends, so many that they were nearly nothing more than little dots._

You like this place?_ Blaster retorted. _You have entered my heart. I will demand that you seek sanctuary elsewhere.

But, my friend,_ the spirit mocked, _I will not be leaving anytime soon. You have Darkness in you. I sense it. You've been tempted by the Dark Side, and yet you continue to resist. Perhaps I should knock you over the edge and take complete control.

_ Though Blaster continued to resist, the spirit used its strength to thrust Blaster to the edge of the platform. The alien was stopped by an invisible forcefield. Just as suddenly as the spirit attacked, Blaster's vision of the Station faded as a new influence entered his mind._

Come to me.

_This new invader of his mind was vast and powerful, like a mountain looming over him. It was blocking the pain and reflecting some of it to the spirit. A song played through the invader's mind, but, unlike Arya's, it was a song full of deep amber-gold chords that throbbed in magisterial melancholy._

_ After a few moments, Blaster finally asked, _Who are you?

One who will help. _With a flicker, the Shade's negligible influence lifted off Blaster's mind, and the Spirit was swept away into the confines of Blaster's mind, brushed aside like a cobweb. Finally freed of the oppression, Blaster expanded his mind until it reached a barrier it couldn't pass. _I have protected you as best I can, but you are so far away that I can do no more than shield your sanity and your mind_._

Who are you to do such things? _Blaster asked again._

_ The response came as a low rumble._ I am Oshato Chetowä, the Mourning Sage. And Togira Ikonoka, the Cripple Who Is Whole. Come to me, Blastbone Clarkson, for I have answers to all you ask. You will not truly be safe until you find me.

Where are you, then?

Trust Arya and go with her and Eragon to Ellesméra—I will be there. I have waited many seasons, so do not delay or it may soon be too late. You are much greater than you know, Blaster. Think of what you have done and rejoice, for you have helped the man who has rid the land of a great evil. It is a deed no one else could have wrought. Many will be in your debt.

All I did was stager the Shade,_ Blaster retorted._ I do not see how that makes others indebted to me.

But, you think too lowly of yourself. Had you not nudged the Shade's mind, Eragon would have died without being able to show his true colors. He, at least, is in your debt.

_The stranger was right; he had helped a mere farm boy kill a Shade, a feat worthy of recognition and honor. However, his feats in battle, saving the lives of numerous allies from the Urgals was no small feat either. He felt like he was less of a pawn in the game of power and more of an independent entity, an authority higher than any king or leader._

_ A burst of color erupted in his mind as the Mourning Sage drew nearer. The vision solidified as a figure standing on a sun-drenched stone cliff, dressed in white. _It is time for you to rest, Blaster. When you wake, do not speak of me to anyone. _Though the face was still obscured by a silver nimbus, but Blaster could sense he was smiling. _Remember, you must go to the elves. Now, sleep…_He raised a hand in benediction, and a calm washed over Blaster. Before he finally blacked out into restful sleep was that his long-deceased father would have been proud of him._

_**FRFRFRFRFR**_

"Wake up," a voice commanded. "Wake up, Blaster! You've been sleeping for far too long." The alien stirred, but he was too comfortable to leave the warmth that surrounded him. "I said, WAKE UP!"

A sharp snap and a sudden pain to his cheek jerked Blaster awake, though he opened his eyes slowly. Above him were Angela and Char, each with a small smile on them. "How do you feel?" Angela asked.

Disoriented and confused, he sat up a little to take in all the surroundings. "I feel…off. Like I was just hit by a boulder."

"Then you shouldn't move anymore," Char said. "Conserve your strength."

Angela ran her hand through her curly hair, still wearing her armor. Char too had her armor on. He racked his brains as Angela came by with a cup of mead. His last thoughts were of losing a battle, killing Urgals, with Durza, and…"Eragon and Saphira!" he blurted. He jerked upright and had to hold his head to keep the room from spinning. "How are they? Will they be alright? I know the Urgals were winning, and she was falling with Arya on her back to help Eragon. And Sara? What about her?"

"They all lived," Angela assured. "And have been waiting for you to wake up. Do you wish to see them?" He sat up straighter and nodded. The door practically burst open when Angela opened it and Arya, Murtagh, and Eragon rushing in. Saphira and Sara poked their heads through the doorway, unable to fit through the portal. Sara's chest was humming.

_It is good to see you well, little one,_ Sara said tenderly.

_Same as you,_ Blaster replied.

_I believe everyone else wishes to tell the story, so I will let them._

Blaster nodded, then looked at the trio. Eragon had a small bandage on his right arm, while Murtagh had a small dressing on his head and Arya had one on her left arm. "About time you woke up," Murtagh said, grinning. "We've been sitting in the hallway for hours."

"What happened?" Blaster asked.

Arya and Eragon looked slightly saddened, but Murtagh crowed, "We won! It was incredible! When the Shade's spirits, if that's what they were, flew across Farthen Dûr, the Urgals ceased fighting to watch them go. It was as though they were released from a spell then, because their clans suddenly turned and attacked each other. Their entire army disintegrated within minutes, and were routed after that."

"They're all dead?" Blaster asked.

"No," Eragon explained. "Many escaped into the tunnels, where the dwarves and the Varden are busy ferreting them out as we speak. It's going to take a while, though. Murtagh was helping, but an Urgal bashed him on the head and he had to come back here."

"You aren't leaving?" Blaster asked, looking at the son of Morzan.

"No," Murtagh said. "A lot of Varden and dwarves were killed and the survivors are busy picking up the pieces. But, at least, according to what Eragon said, you have cause to be happy. You helped beat the Shade, Durza. If it weren't for you, we would have lost Eragon and this battle."

Blaster grinned at this statement. His face became serious again. "What about those damn Twins?"

"I have put wards around the city-mountain so that they can never return," Arya said.

"So," Eragon said, "Blaster's now awake, I'm awake…where's Brom?"

A pang of sadness filled the room. They had not told Eragon about what happened to Brom on the battlefield. Blaster beconed the boy to come forward and sit in a chair by his bed. After a long silence, he finally managed to say, "Eragon, Brom was slain in battle. He was killed by an Urgal and beyond my abilities to heal. I'm sorry."

As Blaster brought the boy in for a hug of condolence, he felt a ropy lump stretching from his right shoulder to his left hip, a scar given to him by Durza, making him equal to Murtagh. He remembered, through the disfiguration, of the Cripple Who Is Whole, and his request. He would gladly go to learn more. "What about my men?"

"They survived," Angela said. "Few were wounded, but they held the line well. They expected to die in battle after your orders were given, but they couldn't have been more blessed to get reinforcements and a much needed respite in the battle." Blaster smiled at this, glad he didn't order his men to their deaths.

"Blaster, one more bit of news," Char said. "You've been out for four whole days."

"Longer than when I contracted that Dwegronian Flu," Blaster said. "What else is there to report?"

"Well, not to go into too many words, Alice contacted me just 12 hours ago," Char sighed. "She is now able to penetrate the magical interference. We can go home."

"How?"

"Just a little over 12 hours ago, Alice picked up a signal, then a kind of wormhole opened up. Blaster, the _Bellerophon_ is here. We can go home."

Blaster thought for a moment, then said, "I would rather stay here and help these people before returning home. I've seen oppression, slavery, and all sorts of devilry that would make Hitler look tame by comparison. No, we stay until the oath-breaker king is dead."

Char nodded. She ordered everyone out. "I will let Cody know," she said. "Until you feel well enough, we will be outside."

As soon as the door clicked closed, Blaster dozed off again, this time with the knowledge that all his friends would be here to help. To help end the war, to help overthrow the king, and to help get back home. A smile grew on Blaster's face as he drifted off from dozing to restful sleep.

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><p><strong>And now the whole crew is here for the remainder of the Saga. Thanks for reading <em>Free Riders.<em> Stay tuned as we begin to kick off the rest with _Free Riders 2: Kingdom of the Repressed_.  
><strong>


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